Untamed
by Clarilune
Summary: Overprotective parents, pokemon that can speak, terrorist attacks, weather disasters, and a crazy monk who throws people through windows...Yeah, that's my life, and I don't get it either.
1. Too Little, Too Late

**Author's Note: **I wasn't trying to write this with some special meaning in mind; it just sort of happened. While I wasn't whipped by the principles of writing when I started this, I was motivated by the fact it entertained me. This is an original story with my own original characters, who can all be viewed from my profile on my deviantart account as the story progresses. I do not own the merchandise, company, yadda yadda of Pokemon. While the beginning is lighthearted, in the future it may generate some dark themes. Just warning you if it comes to that!

WARNING: This story will contain violence, language (hopefully not too foul), and some inappropriate jokes made by the protagonist herself.

And now I present you with _Untamed. _:)

* * *

_**Untamed**_

* * *

_1. Too Little, Too Late_

* * *

I wasn't a stranger to strange things. After all, I built my life upon pecularities, flaunting a reputation of random moments, unpredictable actions, and nonsensical thoughts or words. I didn't expect anyone to understand. Honestly, I didn't even understand myself sometimes. I liked being weird...what I struggled to like was life being weird back to me.

Maybe it was because it wasn't the good kind of weird. I had always appreciated that life would be unexpected or challenging, but I had never anticipated it would be as untamable as it is. I had never thought it would be..._this_.

I didn't know how to describe it. I didn't know what had caused it. But if there was something or someone I could blame besides life itself, I would blame my older brother, Jacoby, because things didn't get really weird until he had left.

Jacoby became a trainer when he was eleven, a fact I would hold effortlessly against him and wear as my armor in case he decided to take a jab back. You could legally become a trainer at ten if you had completed all of the summer classes about pokémon and kept diligently up with your schoolwork. Jacoby had not and was forced to do another year before he was permitted to leave officially.

When Jacoby learned he wasn't going to be a trainer immediately, he was disappointed. As his seven-year-old sister, I comforted him as best as I could since I did feel sorry for him. However, the moment it looked as if he was going to turn me into Mom and Dad for some harmless prank (and I do mean harmless; I'm not a juvenile thankyouverymuch), I baked this information into a pie and threw it at his face.

"Jacoby, did you hear about the incident at school today?" Mom asked, after she had cornered me and basically fished out the same lie over and over again.

I wasn't going to budge and admit to my crimes, but I had come close. When she first had asked me, my lips automatically took the shape of a mischievous smile before I managed to tame my muscles into a frown instead.

"What? The teacher's butt getting glued to the chair? Yeah, everyone heard that one."

Mom stared down at me, probing for a reaction. I wasn't even smiling at this point. Just sort of shifting between both feet and making weird shapes with my tongue to pass the time.

"Do you know who did it?"

"Um…Rochelle?" He was clueless and had been guessing, but he had nailed it.

I took it as a betrayal and burst out the door, flailing my arms and wailing about how Jacoby was a late trainer. All of my yelling certainly did boost his ability to get out as fast as he could and spare him from further humiliation. Before he left, however, he did supply Mom and Dad with several strongly worded hints as to who the culprit for the newest prank was, which resulted in me running down the streets, screaming about how Jacoby was a late trainer, a butt-face, a tool, and a plethora of other names. In any case, Jacoby took his inexperienced rattata named Chewy, scored a badge from the first gym in our hometown of Violet City, and then departed.

If you weren't a trainer by the time you were ten, you were probably doomed for normalcy. That was not how I wanted to be. I was restless, and I certainly didn't have the boredom or restraint to dawdle in one spot. I took my energy and bolstered it into pranks that I eventually roped my best friends Henrietta and Sophie into. If I didn't become a trainer at ten, then the neighbors were all but ready to sign a petition legally ordering me to go.

When Jacoby first left, I hopped up and down as if his departure had implanted springs in my feet and flounced up to my parents with a smug smile.

"Jacoby was late, but I'm not gonna be!"

I didn't notice their tight smiles or sense that their agreements were insincere. Jacoby's departure had lit a flame from underneath me, and I was going to do whatever it took to be a trainer. But just as quickly as Jacoby's goodbye, Mom and Dad snuffed the fire out.

They didn't sign me up for summer classes. I needed to take them if I was going to become a trainer at ten. They were required in order to earn your license, and if I could not take them over the next few summers, I would be forced to take them along with my other classes during the school year, which meant I wouldn't be a trainer until I was thirteen. I couldn't wait that long.

"Y-you _said_ I could leave when I was ten! You _said _I could h-have any pokémon I wanted!" I whined pathetically, tear-stricken and upset.

My dad held me comfortingly and blew raspberries on my stomach between sobs, but this did nothing to soothe me or even make me _giggle_. And raspberries always made me giggle. It was an unspoken rule. Surely this meant the apocalypse was coming and that my parents had made the wrong decision by not signing me up for summer classes.

"Well, Chelle, it's complicated," Mom started, but I wouldn't let her.

"You _said _I'd be able to go with my friends! You _said_ I'd beat Jacoby for sure! You _said_—"

"I _know_ what I _said_, Chelle!" Mom cried.

I stared hard at her, relinquishing my impish control over forced tears. I was very talented with crying on cue—something else I had factored into my pranks over the years.

"Chelly, you want to be a trainer? You will be," my dad said firmly, with that goofy smile of his.

I gave a squeal of delight and triumph, but my mom only sighed.

"Peter, we didn't sign her up for those classes…"

"Thirteen's as good an age as any," he declared. He shouldn't have said that.

"B-but you _said_—"

Obviously my parents didn't know how to manage me. Their attempts at comforting me were bladed by my rage and determination to be a trainer at ten. I had held Jacoby becoming a trainer at eleven over his head like a halo. If I became a trainer at thirteen, he would guiltlessly shove me into a wedding dress and marry me to the blackmail. He would play pin-the-tail-on-the-Rochelle and make it serve as a reminder every time I turned. He was vengeful like that, even though he was sheepishly nice and too joking for his own good. It was part of the sibling rivalry we had secured over the years and had prospered since birth.

Instead of remedying it by going to the school and signing the paperwork necessary to put me through summer classes, they did something else. I sulkily came home after chatting with my best friends on my eighth birthday and saw a _sentret_ of all things on the porch, tied by a leash to the window. Realizing what they were playing at, I untied it and shooed it to the best of my ability, marching inside in what I thought was a victorious way. However, it wasn't, as the sentret ended up following my every step.

"_No_, you have to stay outside," I commanded. The sentret blinked innocently at me.

My parents came out of the kitchen while I was in the midst of lugging the sentret out the door. They could see what I was doing but were noble enough to not call me out on it just yet. Like the good role models they were, they decided to use my actions as entertainment instead. Dad's inquisitive face broke into a smile.

"It looks like you found Poona!"

"…_Poona_?" It sounded like a name for foreign poop, but I didn't admit this out loud just yet. I pocketed that to be a tool I could use later on in case this went horribly wrong.

"Yeah, Poona. Your new sentret."

"_My_ new sentret?" I feigned surprise, bugging my eyes out, which wasn't that hard. My eyes were already kind of wide, and my eyebrows, despite being thin, were positioned over my eyes in a way to always look raised, like I was shocked at whatever I was hearing. I didn't like this attribute but couldn't complain too much.

"That's right. She's yours. She's a newborn, too, so she should be pretty harmless."

Okay, Chelle, you got this. I got my fishing pole ready and threw out the bait as I clutched my hand suddenly, biting my bottom lip. Mom was suspicious, but I was reeling in Dad as if he had come along fervently and was willing to stop for seconds.

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"Outside earlier, she bit me! My hand hurts!" I said, pinching my skin hard enough to make it look like it was swelling or it really had been attacked.

Poona sat loyally by my feet and then heightened herself with the might of her striped tail, which was still growing and looked a little too small for her light brown furry body. She leaned forward to touch my hand, licking it comfortingly. Mom burst into coos.

"How adorable! You two seem like a perfect match."

And that had settled it. They strode away, leaving me with a clueless, generally too amiable sentret and a broken dream. I glared at the young sentret at my feet.

"Well played, Poona. Well played."

I didn't allow this to be the end of it, however. I was determined to make my parents pay for their lackadaisical effort. They had almost shrugged when they realized they didn't sign me up for summer classes and had done nothing to repair the situation. That, to eight-year-old I, was inexcusable.

"I don't like Poona," I announced to my father.

Unfortunately, this statement was hardwired with booby traps that Poona had placed there when she decided to lovingly curl up against me in that moment. She was so affectionate and cheerful that it was considered abuse if I didn't pet her. Absentmindedly, I did so, not helping my argument in the least.

"Why? She seems to really like you," Dad observed.

"She, uh…she bit me," I said, standing straighter in an effort to be taller. Already I was tall for my age and would continue to grow, but emphasis didn't hurt.

"You already said that…and you were pinching yourself as you were saying it."

"That's because…it hurt so badly that a pinch is nothing! I was comparing the pain of the bite to the pain of the pinch…and the bite won. Ow," I added flatly.

"Poona doesn't really have teeth yet, Chelle."

"You're a fool, Dad!" I cried suddenly, with enough volume to make him jump. "Do you see that? She's got you where she wants you! You'll be next!"

Dad was just playing along for amusement at this point as his eyes stopped scrutinizing the newspaper he was reading long enough to stare at me reassuringly. "I don't think Poona's out to get any of us, Chelle."

"And that's where you're wrong!"

I made an escape with Poona following after me, traveling through our spacious living room to the more claustrophobic hallway, which branched off into a total of three bedrooms and one bathroom. The brown walls my mom had spent countless hours painting and decorating transformed all of the carefully arranged furniture, such as the thin glass table placed against the wall in the hall, into blurs. Everything in the house remained to be incredibly modern, with very earthy surfaces or colors and glass structures for decorative objects.

My room, on the other hand, could most likely be used as a lethal weapon against anyone obsessed with organization or environmental cleanliness. It was honestly a hazard to anyone's health but my own, with large, untouchable, and exotically colorful piles scattered across the room, filled with objects I might have either stolen or innocently picked up. At least half of what was in my room didn't even belong to me, but Mom and Dad weren't going to notice this for a long time.

I chose not to acknowledge several stains or traces of yesterday's and last week's breakfast as I plopped onto my bed, which I couldn't even remember the original color to. Poona landed beside me happily.

"You won this time," I ground out through clenched teeth.

Admittedly, I did enjoy her company, and Mom and Dad could see that. After a week, I stomped up to them and confessed what they already knew.

"Okay, so I like foreign poop…" I trailed off evenly, allowing the suspense to hover in midair. They took this pause with some confusion, unsure of what I was really getting at.

"Uh, what?"

"…but this is not the end. You have been warned." I made a gesture to imply I was watching them and then bolted out of the room with Poona at my heels.

I was sated. _For now._

It was simply too easy to like Poona, and to dislike her was equivalent to labeling yourself a heartless monster. Since I liked having my heart and didn't want to lose it by declaring such an obviously prideful lie, I admitted she was a good companion—a cute, naïve, bountiful companion that constantly hopped on her tail, but a companion nonetheless.

A few months later, while I was lying on my bed, I was stirred into consciousness by a voice that I couldn't trace or identify.

"_Food time? Food?"_

I sat up slowly and looked down at Poona, who was staring up at me with gracious eyes. I waited, narrowing my eyes at her anxiously. Had she spoken? No…she would have said something I couldn't understand then, and I had definitely heard that. Who was there? Was that Trevor? It had sounded high-pitched, and even though Trevor was extremely young and hadn't started puberty, I knew he didn't sound that bad.

I was about to flop resignedly back against my pillow in blissful, sleepy surrender when her mouth moved again.

"_Food now?" _Her tail thudded the ground with enthusiasm, sweeping aside some of the clothes I had left sprawled on the floor.

I almost died.


	2. Off the Edge of Despair

_2. Off the Edge of Despair_

* * *

I stared without blinking. Poona was a baby sentret, and she had never talked before. At most she would purr if I pet her in one of her favorite areas. She had never talked, and, when she'd be able to, I didn't think I'd understand her.

I nearly flew out of the room, running urgently down the hall. Poona pursued me speedily, her paws clicking from behind me, while her tail—which was still not big enough to support her entirely—parachuted from behind her.

"Mom! Dad! Mom! Dad!" I went rhythmically back and forth between their names as I whirled around a corner. After a while, my breathlessness ailed me, and I was blending both names without supplying them with too much enunciation. I was fluent in gibberish at this point.

"MomDadMomDadMomDadMo—"

"Yes, Chelle?" Mom nearly had to scream it over how loud I was saying it. Luckily, she was very patient and seemed to be in one of her more loving moods. She almost reached forward to clap a hand over my mouth, though.

"Poona _talked_," I said incredulously.

"Oh really?" She beamed and pet Poona behind her ears, which had already been alertly raised. She started talking with a voice you'd only use with babies, saying, much to Poona's delight, "Well isn't that wonderful? Guess who's growing up so fast? You are, you cute cookie you!"

"_Mom_," I interrupted moodily, "she's _talking._ As in, _I can understand everything she's saying_."

Mom either didn't make the connection or had grown immune to anything she suspected was related to my antics. She brushed me off as if I was the hair that had fallen off her head.

"Chelle, that's silly. Poona's a baby sentret, and she certainly can't speak English. You probably just thought you heard her—"

Poona elevated herself with her tail, standing stock-straight as to match my height exactly. Almost desperately, she asked, _"Food?" _

"SHE JUST DID IT!" I screamed. Mom winced and sighed bitterly.

"Chelle, she was speaking in pokémon."

"No, she wasn't. THAT WAS ENGLISH!" I launched myself at Poona, making her give a noise of surprise as we both crashed to the floor. "There's a human in this fur, I know it! Stop dressing as a pokémon, you sicko! Get another hobby!"

I wrestled with her momentarily, causing Poona to give what I assumed were giggles as she extended her mouth and actually nibbled on me joyfully this time. At least I could say she had actually bitten me, though was it _her_ or the pervert pretending to be a pokémon? This was just _wrong_.

"Chelle, get off of her!"

Mom pried me off of her. I protested by flailing my arms and screaming like a banshee. It didn't help that most of what I said was unwise and slightly colorful, in some cases. In my mom's eyes, I had become a problem, so she decided to ground me.

I walked angrily back to my room with the plummeting feeling of exile. Poona followed loyally, trotting to the bed before I approached it.

"_Food?" _She wagged her tail eagerly and once again used it to make her tower over me as I hunched over my bed.

I narrowed my eyes. This was her fault for not showing off her humanity or her speech. If she could speak English, why couldn't she do other things? Like using the toilet instead of leaving trails all over the house? That would have been helpful, at least.

"You can _starve_," I spat. I was in no mood, but Poona's exuberance prevented her from sensing that.

Alarmingly unfazed, she bounced out of the room to fetch my parents. They immediately assisted her. Traitors.

I tried talking to my dad, who was more reasonable when it came to listening, but he was just as persuaded as my mother that I had simply misheard things. Whatever. I at least knew Henrietta would believe me.

Henrietta was my best friend. She had been since we were five. When I first saw her, she was trying to figure out how to swing.

Without her seeing me, I had lunged at her from behind with enough force to push her out of the swing entirely. After landing on the ground with a sharp gasp, she stood up and swung around, giving me the meanest glare I had ever seen—one that was only minimally seen behind her enormously boxy glasses. I returned it with a smile, which puzzled her greatly, but not enough to impede her questions.

"…What do you want?" she asked after an unsatisfied pause.

"You needed a push, and I have hands." I held them up to give her proof, grinning in a way she probably thought was idiotic.

"No, I didn't. I could do it by myself," she mumbled. I became aware of how light-skinned she was, impossibly pale in contrast to her wildly curly dark brown hair. I also saw how colored her cheeks were with red and what exactly was on them.

"You have dots on your face," I said suddenly. She looked alarmed and almost embarrassed, hurriedly slapping her hands on her cheeks as if to rearrange her features.

"Th…they're not dots! They're freckles," she replied weakly.

"That's okay. I have holes in mine." I grinned for further evidence. She frowned.

"Those aren't holes. Those are dimples," she said pointedly.

"What? I don't have those; Jacoby has those!" I was confused with what she was talking about. Jacoby had complained about acne and _pimples_. Since the words rhymed, I supposed I was excused.

"Who's Jacoby?"

"My brother. He has my color hair, too." I grabbed one of my dirty blond locks and pointed to it proudly. She seemed unimpressed.

"So?"

Abruptly, I threw my arms around her and pulled her into a huge hug. Any time I had been moody or grumpy, my mom would wrap her arms around me and hold me in place until I asked to be released. It would usually help in calming me down or cheering me up, so I thought this was the cure for this instance as well. She squirmed unpleasantly but then stilled when she realized I wasn't going to let go.

After a long silence, she asked hesitantly, "Can you let go please?"

I did so with a large, triumphant smile. "There. All better."

She looked at me, somewhat baffled. "What's all better?"

"You. You needed a hug, so I gave you one."

She flushed and dropped her head. "No, I didn't."

I wasn't even scratching the surface with this conversation. Something was wrong, and I could see that as she rubbed her eyes, clawing at them from underneath her glasses.

"Why are you sad?" I didn't miss the glance she gave her parents, who were sitting on one of the far benches, chattering enthusiastically with other adults.

"It's nothing." She tried to smile, but when she did, tears just poured out, and soon enough she was sobbing against my shoulder. "Th-they don't l-like me!"

"Your parents?" I looked at them curiously. They didn't seem to notice that their daughter was crying ferociously, enough to leave a trail of snot and tears along my left sleeve.

"Y-yeah! Th-they say I don't listen! And they w-won't teach me h-how to s-swing!"

"Well, it's not that hard. I can push you," I offered.

Later on, when it would be too late to matter, I would notice that she had already known how to swing. She was just purposely handicapping her swinging skills to make herself require assistance from someone else. My pushes had only been necessary for her confidence.

"Th-that's so n-nice," she sobbed. She withdrew herself apologetically, noticing the stains along my sleeve. "I-I'm s-sorry. I'm m-messing up y-your sh-shirt."

I tried not to twitch when I replied with, "I don't care."

I actually really, truly, _really_ cared. I hated not being absolutely clean. My room, on the other hand, could grow hands and clean itself up. That place was and always would be a mess, regardless of how tidy and squeaky clean I had kept myself. And I do mean _squeaky clean_. In the bath I'd scrub until my hands hurt and my nails were either shortened or slightly bent. My skin was smooth and spotless. I absolutely would not tolerate being plagued with blemishes as Jacoby was in his early stages of puberty.

Before I had the nerve and disgusted finality to shove her off in order to remove my shirt and prevent the snot from spreading or possibly sticking to my skin, she smiled genuinely and said, "Thank you."

"You can thank me by getting me a new shirt! I'm Rochelle," I said brightly.

"Henrietta," she said, once the tears had inevitably stopped.

In a way, Henrietta had always been ignored by her parents. They were always displeased with something either she was doing or they themselves were doing. Their house wasn't clean enough, their job wasn't good enough. They were not satisfied, a trait Henrietta complained constantly about every time I saw her. She really didn't like her parents, while I had an obligatory (and sometimes violated) treaty with mine. In order to get her parent's attention, she tried doing drastic things, including tagging along with me for very fun, unforgettable pranks. We mixed soy sauce in dark beverages or pretended that we had stabbed each other when really we were soaked in ketchup. Once we had even replaced Jacoby's toothpaste with a concoction of mustard and mayonnaise. We almost always got caught and yelled at, but it was so worth it.

Henrietta took this rebellion to heart. She would listen to music her parents firmly disapproved of, dress in clothes her parents had insisted be censored or locked away, and do stupid ideas that I had actually been the one to suggest and enforce. Eventually she grew to love her things and especially liked wearing striped or checkered things. If nothing matched, she wore it, along with several other deadly-looking accessories. Once, Henrietta tried dyeing her hair black but had accidentally dyed it plum purple. She tried to hide this mishap from her parents since she honestly liked it _a lot_, but her parents screeched when they discovered it and forced her to dye it black when she didn't comply with dyeing it back to its original dark brown.

It became Henrietta's goal to be different, and she would do whatever it was to show it. She liked being my tag-along partner and voice of reason while wearing her outlandish colored tutus, gloves, spiky collars, and striped and checkered clothing. And she hated her freckles so much that she would try covering them with band-aids, which I promptly snatched off her face when she wasn't looking. After that she was always on guard and _always_ cautious, conscientious of her surroundings and hardly ever relaxed, but levelheaded when necessary.

Despite how rebellious she had become, there was something valuable she still learned from always going against her parents: she always identified the consequences beforehand. She was entirely aware of what would happen if she did _this_ or _that_ and acted as my conscience when I had ideas that were just too stupid to do. She was the voice of reason in our friendship and could reasonably account the aftermath before going forward. Because of this she was very intuitive and almost seemed like she could predict the future sometimes with her extensive reasoning and logic. With how honed her intuition was, I generally tried to be as unpredictable as possible around her, throwing gibes and things she wouldn't expect me to say regularly.

Henrietta was friendly, cool, and prepared, but she was downright torturous to her little sister, Lillian. She didn't miss a chance to hit her when walking by. I wasn't even that bad to my little brother Trevor, even though I constantly teased him for his shyness. Unlike with her sibling, Henrietta would support me and my claims, which is why I had to see her right now.

I jumped out through my window, inwardly thanked my parents for owning a own-story house, and landed in the bordering bushes. I knew Poona would follow me eventually, but I didn't know how soon with her finally being fed, so I had to be fast. I dashed across the front lawn and hurried to Henrietta's house, where she was being detained after getting in her own argument with her parents over who-knows-what. Since her parents were sadly unobservant, they probably wouldn't even notice if she snuck out.

I knocked on the door and rocked back and forth on my heels in the meantime. When Lillian answered with her identical freckles and dark curly hair, she blinked and looked as if she were about to close the door again.

"Hey, Lil! Where's Henrietta? I need to talk to her."

Lillian glanced behind me with slightly wide eyes. "No pokémon in the house."

I looked down. Sure enough, Poona pawed at my heels, grinning stupidly before she lifted herself to my height with the force of her tail. I huffed and glanced back at Lillian, who waited expectantly.

"Can you go get her?"

Lillian shrugged, still eyeing me. She wasn't even five years old and she already wasn't bowing to her elders…Not that I counted as one, but I _was_ older.

Sighing, I stepped back and screamed with all my might, "HENRIETTA, IT'S CHELLE! I JUST WANTED TO SAY THAT YOU SHOULD BE HITTING YOUR SISTER WITH A WOODEN SPOON RIGHT NOW!" I do not normally support abuse, but uncooperative children deserved a beating.

Lillian flinched as soon as I started screaming and scowled at me furiously. She was about to slam the door, but Henrietta's foot saved the structure from taking a hit. She looked at Lillian icily and shooed her from the doorway so that she could slip out. Henrietta gave me a polite smile and stepped out, her neon tutu bouncing right along. Poona reached for it and played with the frill, highly animated at the fabric with the ability to stick up almost as much as she did with her tail.

"Sorry, Lillian has been kinda bratty lately," she remarked offhandedly. She blinked in an effort to focus her light hazel eyes, adjusting her glasses. She would be incredibly blind without them. I knew this from the time I had snatched them and hidden them in my pockets. Sometimes I wondered why she was still friends with me... "What's up?"

"Poona talked. _She speaks English_." I yammered about the incident before Henrietta could even chronicle it. The rate at which my words came slowed the process of registration. Henrietta could do nothing more than stare in a hopeless endeavor to comprehend what I was talking about.

When I finished, Henrietta said slowly, "What do you mean?" She peered at Poona as she continued to prod Henrietta's tutu playfully.

I threw my arms up in the air in frustration, tired of having to explain myself. "I heard Poona talk. In our language. Not pokémon talk. _I could understand everything she was saying_."

Henrietta crossed her arms and stared at me dubiously. "Now let's think about this, Chelle…She's a pokémon."

Great. She was resorting to observations. We were eight, not five. "And I'm a human. Next?"

"She's a baby pokémon, so she hasn't really said much. She hasn't said _anything¸ _right?"

"She said her first words today, and they were _human_ because I _heard_ them."

Henrietta could see I wasn't dislodging my beliefs, so she sighed and suggested, "Let's go talk to Sophie about this."

I didn't protest or huff, but I was a little mad she didn't believe me immediately. Normally she would jump on board with whatever I was saying because she knew I wouldn't lie to _her_. To anyone else, I definitely would, but we were best friends, and friendship was supposed to be bonded with honesty and trust…most of the time.

However, out of all of us, Sophie was the most honest one. She was honest to the point of it being cruel. The girl would tell us anything, even if it meant hurting our feelings. Sophie was definitely the most straightforward person I knew, and I was…well, _me_. I always said what was on my mind, even the weirdest things. I received strange looks for such things, but Sophie was excusable.

While I was weird and generally immature, Sophie was mature and brutal. She was dainty and pretty-looking, but she didn't seem so lady-like with how disinterested and uncaring she was toward everything. Her expression was always marked with bitterness, too, with how her left eyebrow would always lift upward questionably while her right was hinged unsettlingly downward. Even her _eyes_ were piercing, yet somehow calming with the dark green they paraded. She did get easily annoyed, but she was quiet and didn't yell about it. _How _did we become friends anyway?

Oh, right. It was Henrietta's fault. When Henrietta and I were seven, we saw a new family arriving in Violet City—a single mother with a young six-year-old. Henrietta, upon seeing the girl from a distance, was immediately struck with fascination and tugged me into accompanying her. I didn't care as much as she did, but I did want to meet this new girl.

When we approached Sophie, she was carrying a small box of items into her house. She was so small and pretty she could have been a doll. Henrietta started treating her as such, speaking in an almost babyish way.

"Hello there. I'm Henrietta," she greeted warmly.

Sophie met her with a dull glance and the tiniest quirk of her left eyebrow. Sophie's light brown hair was cleanly cut and short with an odd bone-resembling clip pulling the top part of her hair back. She had pouty pink lips with a beauty mark below her left eye and another above her right eyebrow. She was petite, and the fact she was wearing practically all pink did nothing but promote how fragile she appeared. She was frightfully skinny, and as a result her features were well-defined. While Henrietta was somewhat chubby and I was fit enough to not jiggle, Sophie was the skinniest and smallest of us all, looking as if she wasn't going to grow too much too soon or else risk certain death.

When Sophie didn't reply and strode boldly into her house, Henrietta frowned, while I remarked with amusement, "Hey, she ignored you. I like her."

"Well, I don't," Henrietta replied harshly, somewhat stung.

When Sophie returned to retrieve another box, Henrietta marched up to her defiantly, nearly stomping her feet. She was met with an almost prissy stare, questioning her motives without really having to.

"My name is Henrietta Johnson," she tried again, without a smile this time.

"I heard you the first time," Sophie said simply. "If it matters to you so much, I'm Sophie Faraday. Now go away."

The only thing that made it sound harsh was how straightforward it was, but it was obvious she didn't intend to be mean or prissy. It was actually nice that she said what she wanted and just didn't care. She wasn't like the other girls who would leave an insult before fleeing or try to beat around the bush as to why they didn't want to hang out with you. The weird part about this whole exchange was that she was only _six years old_, and _we_—the wise and noble seven-year-olds—were receiving a verbal thrashing. It wasn't as if she was dissing us too badly. It was the tone of her words that made them able to wield the edge of a knife; it was her words themselves that allowed them to have such accurate aim.

"I'm Rochelle Worley, but you can call me Chelle," I shouted cheerfully as she went back inside her new home. The door closed—not with a slam, but a delicate touch.

"Yep, I like her!" I announced yet again.

Henrietta was star-struck, drawn by Sophie's pristine and angelic looks and the abnormal accompaniment of her brutal honesty and stoniness. We decided we'd wait around for her in order to get the chance to associate with her again.

Just ten minutes later, her mother must have seen us through one of the windows because she came out and faltered in the doorway, cocking her head.

"Hello. Can I help you girls?" she asked kindly.

"We're here for Sophie," Henrietta answered.

Ms. Faraday's eyes widened and she stepped back inside to bring her daughter out. Sophie emerged obediently, not really putting up much of a fight. She didn't look as if she cared either way, but when she saw us she did raise her left eyebrow once again, surveying us sharply. Her mother went back inside, ecstatic. I had a feeling this didn't happen too much.

"What do you want?"

"You have a bone in your hair," I observed.

"Yes. I do."

"Are you _bad _to the _bone_?" I was hoping to tickle her ribs, but Sophie was having none of it. She probably thought I was too bone-headed to act in accordance with.

"No."

Henrietta decided to take the reins this time. "Is it real?"

"Yes."

That didn't disturb us as much as it should have…until we looked at her neck and saw a necklace of teeth. Literally. Teeth. From a distance they would have looked like jagged pearls, but we could now clearly identify what they were.

Blinking rapidly, Henrietta asked, "Are those…teeth?"

"Yes." Catching on to our observations, Sophie lifted her hands to exhibit the odd outcropping purple gloves that seemed to wrap around and shield her hands rather than press against and cover her skin. "These are gligar claws."

"…And they're all real?"

"Yes. Very."

I was actually fairly disconcerted by that. Looking back at it, I couldn't imagine doing something like ripping off Poona's tail and wearing it as a scarf…even though I _do_ wear scarves to cover the gross birthmark on the back of my neck. Even if my hair was unevenly long enough to cover my neck, my hair was still short in the back, and I didn't want to take any risks. Poona wouldn't be anything without her tail. She bounced on the thing incessantly and used it more than her legs. I wore a lot of feathery and scaly things, yeah, but they weren't _real_.

I couldn't even tell if Sophie noticed we were uneasy about this information. Her face was still set in that rigidly uncaring way, staring not even reproachfully and certainly not wearing down from the focus. She could easily be a staring contest champion if she wanted to be. There was a challenging silence then, in which Sophie's feet threatened to move.

Henrietta piped up haltingly, "How did you get them?"

"My sister made them for me."

"She _made_ them?"

"Yes. Out of my father's pokémon."

Did she not know what she was saying? Henrietta thought she was crazy and was getting to be a little fidgety. Her feet jittered in a fearful way, and I noticed that she was faintly trembling. What happened to her love for dark things? She had always bragged that when she became a trainer she would have a team of all dark or ghost pokémon. I gripped Henrietta's arm when it seemed as if she was about to rise, chaining her to the spot.

"Where'd the bone come from?" I continued.

"A marowak."

"And the teeth?" Henrietta tried to wrench herself free, but years of being thrown in martial arts from when I was four were catching up to me and making my grip lethal. I'd made a handcuff out of my hand at this point, the kind that was worthy of boxing against Sophie's gligar gloves.

"A nidoqueen."

"Why are you wearing them?"

"I like them, and my sister gave them to me."

"Your older sister? Can we meet her?" _So that we can burn her at the stake?_

"No. She left."

"Is she a trainer? My older brother's a trainer," I said proudly. "He's a _late_ trainer though."

"Probably. I don't know." Sophie stared at us some more, making Henrietta squirm. "Is that all?"

"Do you want to play with us?"

The words hadn't been mine, now that I thought about it. I normally didn't think of what I said before I said it, but this was a critical situation. I just invited a potentially psychopathic kid to come and play with us.

Luckily, I thought she was going to say no. Henrietta did, too, because she stopped struggling and sat comfortably back, even though we were still dancing helplessly over the hot coals that my words had placed beneath our feet.

"Fine."

And now we just got burned. Permanently.

Sophie waited. Waited for us to react. Waited for us to move. Waited for us to do _something_. Henrietta was waiting for me to detach myself from her so that she could run away from the murderer-to-be, but I was still calculating my next move. Or rather, my next prank. Would Sophie want to do something like that?

In any case, Sophie _did_ cooperate. She was our moral support buddy—the person who eventually started giving out her opinions instantaneously upon greetings ("Your head is still too big, Chelle." "And you are still too cute, Sophie!" "I think you're both nuts.") because she cared enough to do so. Even if her opinions came off as insults, I didn't take them like that, and neither did Henrietta, surprisingly. She was the one person I didn't care who commented about the stupidity of my actions or how my hair was maybe too shabby or uneven. It was the way she was: brutally honest. Not strongly opinionated, but brutally honest.

She was also scarily smart and mature for her age, stunning Henrietta and me time and time again with her limitless knowledge and answers, even if most of the time she was just being very levelheaded and hardly responsive. Kids her age—heck, kids _our_ age, even—were supposed to be hyper and bouncy and just _stupid_. Sophie wasn't like that at all. In fact, she somehow undermined those that behaved that way without having to say or do anything. She was intimidating like that and still managed to stay by us, hanging out with us practically every day since we'd met her. Probably because she had nothing better to do. We were happy because we thought we were cool enough to hang out with Sophie Faraday, a young girl who should have been admiring us rather than the other way around, but we didn't care.

Sophie would definitely take the right side. She would tell me if I was crazy and get the full story before she cast her judgment. She would probably even know something that would aid my story. If anyone could disprove my insanity, it was Sophie.

Henrietta and I made it to her house in about ten minutes with Poona following us unwaveringly. I was getting tired of looking at her as a reminder of my craziness, so I kept ushering and instilling her to speak. She would just stare at me dumbly with something akin to a smile on her face. This only sunk Henrietta further into disbelief.

I reached forward to knock on Sophie's door, but she opened it as if she had been expecting us.

"Sophie!"

I pounced on her, but she was already ready. Her arm had been held out in preparation for the leap, shoving me off before I even came close to touching her. I had made it a goal to hug her before she got the chance to shield herself. She _hated_ physical contact. Since I was a hugger, this had proven to be an issue. I hadn't gotten the opportunity to hug her yet, and neither had Henrietta. We had a bet as to who would be getting one first.

"I like your glove," she commented.

Wow. A compliment. I felt honored. The glove she was referring to was feathery with a royal blue streaking through each feather. It extended up my right arm, ending with a cuff that could be tightened or loosened. I made it a point to wear only one out of the pair when it came to gloves. I didn't like the feeling of both of my hands being constricted, but one was cool enough.

"Yours are okay," she continued to Henrietta, who frowned considerably. "The tutu is unnecessary though. And, Chelle, I still don't like your hair."

"You probably never will," I chirped, "but that's not why we're here, Sophie. Poona speaks!"

"So do I. This is nothing special," she responded blankly.

"But she speaks _English_! That means we can understand everything she's saying!" I cried indignantly.

"Chelle thinks she heard her," Henrietta included.

"Because I _did_," I said disdainfully. I was getting tired of no one believing me, and really, out of everything I had said and done, was this the hardest thing to believe?

"So what do you think, Sophie?" Henrietta asked, ignoring me.

Sophie didn't even pause, strikingly undeterred with her resolve. She was very decisive about her response, although she always was. "You could be a pokémon."

Henrietta laughed, but I didn't. I stared at her in wonderment. Sophie never joked. _Ever_. Anything that came close was pure sarcasm. Usually even _that_ was undetectable, but I could tell this wasn't one of those rare times.

Sophie raised her left eyebrow at Henrietta disapprovingly. "That was not a joke." Henrietta stopped laughing immediately, as if the words had threatened her unborn children. She returned her eyes to mine. "It's probably a phase. I was once a pokémon."

It was the most awkward silence between the three of us. We knew Sophie had some problems, but we didn't think she had been delusional, too…Then again I thought my sentret had been speaking to me in English. Who was I to judge?

"Or I used to think I was." Our shoulders relaxed, and Henrietta chuckled nervously. "You could be crazy," she decided finally.

I was hoping she'd keep the boat afloat, but I could see it was beginning to sink.

"Did that make _you_ crazy?" I asked bitterly.

"A little bit. Right now, I am crazy enough to believe you," she added helpfully.

I wanted to throw my arms around my newest ally, but the look she was giving me shot me down.

"Humans are capable of understanding what pokémon are saying," she continued smartly.

"Through guessing, maybe," Henrietta offered sensibly. Now she was bitter that she was getting cut down from taking the most logical side of things. I wanted to rub it in since getting Sophie to agree was even a greater challenge than battling the champion of Johto, but I decided there would be plenty of time to do that after Sophie offered her full opinion.

At this point, she just looked annoyed. "No, there is a way to communicate with them. Are you two familiar with the language of Pokéspeech?" Our blank stares confirmed our answer. Sophie plowed over our ignorant silence with a plausible response. "It wasn't necessarily discovered by the last champion since it's been spoken by pokémon for eons, but he did play a helpful hand into implementing it into modern school systems. You aren't required to know it in order to be a trainer, but you can take the class if you prefer. It is an expensive class, however, since there are only a handful of professors who are fluent in the language. It is, after all, the universal language shared by all pokémon. It is said that they merely have accents according to which region they're in, but the language is in the same tongue regardless. There are a few people who are able to master the language, while others can understand pokémon after spending enough time with them; however, it is not enough to understand them completely. You could just be fluent in Pokéspeech, and that would be the only valid explanation besides you being crazy."

I was aware that pokémon had their own language, but I wasn't aware humans could understand it. "So the former champion discovered a way to talk to pokémon? How come I never heard about that?"

"You were probably being too stupid to pay attention. You, too," she said, nodding to Henrietta, who flushed.

I would have protested, but it was too true to deny and I had no helpful arguments to defend myself. Henrietta didn't think so.

"I-I knew that! I just didn't think it was possible for someone to be fluent in Pokéspeech, especially if they didn't even know it existed," she said scornfully, stabbing me with a look.

"Right. It was only made to be a class about ten years ago anyway," Sophie said, almost for comforting purposes. That was shocking, but I didn't say anything about it. "Since you understand Poona very clearly and she's never spoken up to this point, the only likely explanation would be that you're crazy because it's improbable for someone to be fluent in Pokéspeech without having taken lessons for it."

"…Thanks, Sophie," I said sarcastically.

When I got home that day, Poona was still following me and hadn't said anything since this morning. She did make a few noises every time she scuttled after me, but her speech had resigned into muteness once again. I treated to it as a traitorous move and arrived home to encounter the worst traitors of all: my parents. My dad was reading the newspaper, while my mom was preparing dinner. They poked their heads outward to glimpse at the door when they heard me come in.

"…Hey, weren't you supposed to be grounded?" Dad asked suspiciously, peering at me over the newest headline.

Since I was prone to distraction and needed a topic to cover my ground, I read the headline aloud. "'Trainers being attacked during travel'? Sounds criminal. Should we call Jacoby to make sure he's okay?"

Mom waved me off before I could continue by stepping resolutely out of the kitchen and into my view. She did not look happy. "Yes, you were supposed to be grounded. Why did you sneak out?"

"Put the guns down. Your prisoner has returned, but you gotta admit you guys suck as guards."

I wanted to confirm if what Sophie had said was true, but how could I do it? Could I just come out and say it?

Without over-thinking it, I decided to add, casually, "Oh, and I'm fluent in Pokéspeech by the way."

Mom ogled at me before she appeared as if she realized something important. Her forehead met her right palm with a _smack_. "Oh, that's right!"

Dad stared at her in confusion, obviously not sharing the same realization. "What, Leandra?"

There was a thoughtful pause of Mom gnawing absently on her lower lip before she announced sheepishly, "We had a tutor teach you Pokéspeech when you were younger."

My thoughts were clouded with unforgiving tones and insults I easily uncased from the darkest corners of my mind. I could have yelled at them had I known they were withholding this information, but I didn't. It did give me hope for something else though.

"Does that mean I'm not grounded anymore?"

"No, you're still grounded. Now go clean your room," Mom ordered, and returned to the kitchen after exchanging a significant glance with Dad.

I glared at them and headed back to my room, closing the door as I caught sight of Trevor across the hall, staring timidly out from his own room. He had a really dorky haircut in which his blond hair barely touched the top of his forehead. The length made his ears stick out and gave the impression his face was bulging beneath his hair. I stuck my tongue out at him without giving it much thought, giving Poona just enough time to crawl through the crack before the door closed.

How could you forget something like that? That had been totally discouraging, but at least I was able to do _something_ that most trainers couldn't even do at ten years old: I could communicate with pokémon. To an extent, probably, but at least my parents had been kind enough to hire a tutor for me when I was a little kid. I had no idea whether Jacoby had gotten the special treatment or not, but I could only guess the same thing had happened to him. I hadn't seen that happen with Trevor though, so I was a little confused. Plus, I couldn't even remember when I had been learning from this so-called tutor, so how could I have remembered what I had been learning about? How was I able to understand a language I didn't know I knew?

Maybe Sophie would know something about this. I would have to talk to her and see if she had an answer.

I looked around my headquarters without a word. My room was still the most damaged part of the house. Since today was laundry day, I had done my part by placing all of my dirty clothes on the floor, amid even more unidentifiable clutter. Poona rolled over on the floor from beside me, colliding with my dresser and knocking more clothes onto the carpet.

_"I want more food,"_ she whined.

This was definitely better than the crazy explanation. I acted insane, but that didn't mean I actually had to be.


	3. Call Me Maybe

_3. Call Me Maybe_

* * *

"Henrietta, please don't go!"

I threw myself at her and pinned her to the ground. She wiggled, trying to kick me but failing utterly. Poona joined the pile, illogically thinking it was some kind of game. It turned out to be one when the sentret—who had gotten heavier from her constant lounging and eating but still remained manageably fit from her ridiculously strong tail—refused to budge and insisted on rolling us all up into a ball.

I had been dreading this moment for the past two years. I still had another year with Sophie, but Henrietta was leaving for sure.

When we managed to disentangle ourselves, Henrietta gave me a warning look lest I jump her again and pushed herself to a shaky stand.

"Chelle, I said I'd think about staying until I was thirteen so that we'd leave together, but I can't stand it here anymore," Henrietta said with a wistful sigh.

"This is because of your parents, right?"

"Right. And they _were_ nice enough to give me a budew…Only because they want me out probably," she added bitterly.

"But don't you want to wait until you get a dark or ghost pokémon? You said you wanted a whole team of them!" I reminded her. "If you don't wait for me, then _I'll_ turn into a ghost and end up haunting you. I'll get your parents to help me, and you don't want _that_."

"They probably won't even care."

"Hey, shut up! I'm trying to get you to stay! I'll tolerate your parents _for_ you or something," I begged.

"It's not like you'll be alone. You have Sophie," she pointed out, and I noticed there was a hint of blush on her freckles. It didn't take much for them to alight. They were dangerously flammable even when she was only faintly embarrassed.

The tight feeling in her cheeks probably reminded her that she hadn't covered them, and she hurriedly went to lay the band-aids on her face. As soon as they were secure, I ripped them off.

"Ow! _Chelle_! That hurt like hell!"

"And that rhymed as well!" I said jokingly, but then I reverted to staggering seriousness, holding up the band-aid accusingly. "This is me."

"What?"

"You heard me. This is me. I am your band-aid, and I just got ripped off. You're my best friend. Aren't you supposed to be awesome and willing to wait for me? Three years isn't too much when you think about it."

"Again, you still have Sophie."

"Yeah, well, maybe _she'll_ stay." We both knew she wouldn't, but she was at least decent enough to not correct me about it.

"I'll see you eventually, Chelle. This isn't the end…And look, I got a cell-phone." She held it up comfortingly. "You can call me every day, or any time you feel lonely. But, _again_¸ you have Sophie, so you shouldn't be too lonely."

I glowered at her, and for the first time _I _was actually the one making my best friend scared—not Sophie. (Because let's face it, that kid can be damned scary when she wants to be.) She was unable to make eye contact with me for a short time, shifting her eyes to the floor because she knew she was about to get floored. That was definitely where she'd end up after suffering the punt of my words.

"Stop. This is really hard for me, and you're not being supportive enough. You expect me to just get over the fact that you're leaving and settle with Sophie? We have been best friends for years, and you think you're some hot-shot because you want to leave early? Look, I know you don't get along with your parents; you tell me all the damned time. But at least try to be more comforting right now. I'm going to miss you, and it doesn't seem like you'll miss me," I finished coldly.

This saddened her deeply, I could tell. She pushed her glasses so far up they practically crushed the front of her eyes. She was probably imprisoning the tears before they had a chance to escape. Maybe she _had_ been whittled with sorrow and she had just wanted to cover the tracks of her tears with concrete—harsh, unfeeling, and pitiless concrete. It reminded me of Sophie in a way, but it was different receiving this sort of treatment from Henrietta. With Sophie, there was no valuable meaning behind her conduct because it just _happened_. Her roads were automatically paved with concrete, while Henrietta's was only starting to conceal the frayed path of dirt.

Suddenly, she dropped the cold guise like a curtain and flung her arms around me. I was aware that her tears were leaking through my shirt, which made me want to scream and hurl her off of me or it'd be my lunch instead. I hadn't thrown up since some kid had gotten soup on me in the cafeteria after he tripped over his untied shoes. It had been embarrassing enough getting soup all over my clothes and a little on my shoulder (I shuddered at the thought.), but it had been anguishing to throw up everywhere as a result of its landing. I couldn't face my classmates for _days_ without one of them snickering in my direction. Thanks to Sophie's interference and my blatant threats, however, they did manage to stop before I sent one of them hurling across the room themselves.

"O-Of _course_ I'm g-going to m-miss you! You're my b-best friend! P-please don't th-think about me too much though b-because I'm already g-going to miss you, and I d-don't want you b-being s-sad!"

I vaguely detected the dribble of snot on my shoulder before I twitched and promptly upchucked all over my best friend.

* * *

Sophie had arrived on-time; when I say on-time, I mean just as I had finished hosing Henrietta off and getting her a change of clothes.

Henrietta grumpily threw her diversified clothing on, pulling the gloves up so they squeezed her fingers. She was just reaching for the tutu when she stated observationally, "You never used to be this sensitive. Are snot and soup your triggers now?"

"Rochelle threw up," Sophie guessed correctly. She never made it sound as if she was questioning anything.

I nodded somewhat apologetically, still shaken from the experience of having been touched by Henrietta's snot once again. She had cried a lot in front of me, but I had always been prepared by neatly placing a towel on my shoulder before she'd made some kind of move. And then of course there was the act of closing my eyes and trying to breathe without worrying over Henrietta sullying me in any way. I was obsessed with my personal cleanliness to the point of being nauseated over anything threatening it.

"Your shirt is ridiculous," Sophie said offhandedly to Henrietta, before I could defend my sensitivity.

I surveyed it, noticing how she had impulsively cut off the left sleeve so that the right one would be the only long one. It was plum purple, her favorite color, but that probably wasn't what Sophie found so idiotic about it.

Henrietta beamed, appearing almost proud of gaining Sophie's disapproval. It wasn't a hard thing to be rewarded, but it was delightful all the same when you were friends with her.

"Thanks, Sophie! I'm…going to miss you," she said softly, and took a step forward.

Sophie watched her carefully, not making any sudden movements but not really responding either. Henrietta took this as permission and extended her arms outward, much to Sophie's annoyance.

"Don't touch me," she commanded, swatting her arms away.

Hurt, Henrietta lowered them, nervously scratching the back of her head. "Well, I thought since I'm going away, I could at least have a hug? I'm going to miss you guys, and I already gave Rochelle her hug…"

Unbridled by this saddened response, Sophie maintained her rigid stance and expression. Henrietta looked as if she'd explode into tears from the rejection she should have been used to receiving from Sophie by now.

"I'll give you Sophie's hug, too," I offered quickly.

Sophie permitted this, turning away coldly. I gave Henrietta another hug, much to her dissatisfaction, but I could tell she was still happy to see Sophie regardless of the attitude involved.

"Here's my phone number, guys," she said, handing us slips of paper.

I took mine, trying hard to memorize the number from the get-go. Sophie disinterestedly pocketed it and faced Henrietta, holding out her hand.

Whatever the circumstances, it was still dramatic. We had never made contact with Sophie in any way unless she was pushing us away to prevent us from hugging her. This was a handshake, but it was still physical contact. I half-wondered if this meant Henrietta had won the bet. While it wasn't necessarily a hug, it could have accounted for one with it being Sophie.

I was still processing this when Henrietta gave me a smirk. Shit. She thought she'd won.

"Your parents already gave you plenty of money. You don't need any more from me," I said, waving off her attempts at robbing me of the little money I had. It would take a lot to actually steal something from me. I was a natural-born thief in many cases and could pickpocket as easily as I could pick something up. This was often why I'd like having a lot of pockets on my belts or clothing, so that I had room for something else I'd stolen. It was a bad habit, and Mom and Dad were still trying to punish me for it, but the talent for it was doubtless.

Sophie pulled her hand back and nearly studied it before letting it hang limply by her side. "Are you leaving soon?"

"Yes. I'm going to have to if I want to make it to the next center in time for the curfew," Henrietta stated.

There was a curfew for young (especially ten-year-old) trainers, which involved them being in a secure location between certain hours of the day and avoiding specific areas at night. I saw Henrietta pack the guidebook and map that detailed these hours and rules within her bag, along with a large of assortment of clothes and items that would save her if she wasn't able to stay at a pokémon center.

"But don't you want to stay and battle Falkner? He _is_ the first gym leader," I suggested. I wasn't down without a few pathetic tries. Henrietta couldn't leave just yet.

She sighed and brought a hand back to her hair, which was already starting to frizz up. She froze when it made contact, making a face. "I'm too scared to battle the gym, and I just want to leave, you know? I'll come back hopefully soon, since I do want to take the gym challenge. Maybe when I get a flying pokémon I can fly back over here—"

"That would require you to have a number of badges. Otherwise, you must fly for only a restricted number of minutes each day," Sophie said curtly.

"Uh, yeah," I agreed lamely. "You should train and maybe get some more pokémon before you go and _at least_ get the gym badge. Jacoby did before he left."

"I can't face Falkner right now! He has flying-type pokémon, and he'd whip me for sure with Gerard," she protested.

"Gerard? Is that what you named him?"

Henrietta flushed and extended her hand with his pokéball curled within her grasp. "Yeah. Do you want to see him?"

"Sure. Poona needs someone to play with." I peered over my shoulder at the mention of the sentret, who was licking herself peacefully. She had gotten more talkative over the years, and I had started to train her since she had gotten out of her babyish, playful phases and could actually have a conversation rather than just outright demanding food. She was still playful and too naive for her own good, but she could probably reach a serious peak with a couple more chats. With more training, she could even evolve.

Henrietta released the budew in a burst of light, and Poona's ears instantly perked. Gerard shook slightly, causing the budding bulb on top of his face to bloom as it met the rays of the sun overhead. He even looked a little greener from having made contact and relaxed into the ground, looking as if he was almost willing to restfully plant himself there. Poona came closer to examine him and grinned.

"_You smell good,_" she complimented gleefully. He looked at her through the slits of his eyes, apathetic.

"_I know I do."_

"_I want to smell that good. Let's play! If we do, I'll be able to smell as good," _she proposed, steeling herself with her tail. Her balance was still amazing to me, and she had gotten progressively taller with the supportive stilt of her tail beneath her.

"_I'm too tired, so leave me alone," _he complained. _"I don't even know you."_

"_I'm Poona!" _she introduced merrily, still spirited from his lack of sociality.

"_I don't care," _he scoffed uncooperatively.

Since Poona was too forgiving and sweet to give a diminished and obviously damaged response, I tenderly came to her defense.

"He's a brat," I said, as he leaned back to strengthen his connection with the sun. "And he just rejected Poona." I bent to the ground to whisper, "You can chew on him if you want." And she did. Gladly. For my suggestion, it had been spiteful, but there was no way it could be for Poona, who was brought great joy from merely nibbling on his stubby legs. Not eating. Nibbling. There was a difference.

"H-hey! He's pretty young! He can't help whatever he said!" Henrietta defended, rescuing Gerard from Poona's mouthy clutches.

"He still has an attitude," I objected. Henrietta returned him at the sight of my cross expression.

She brought one hand to her hip, swinging it to one side. "See? There's no way I can go up against Falkner, so stop begging me."

"I've said nothing," Sophie said. "You may do what you wish. We'll see you again someday, and you gave us your number. That's enough."

Henrietta twiddled her thumbs almost guiltily. "Yeah…so…do you guys want to walk me to the route? I already have all of my stuff with me, and I said goodbye to my family. Now there are just you guys."

"Yeah…" I gazed at Sophie, hoping she had something to prolong and stall this when I was falling short for once and failing to do what I was so good at. Maybe I could steal some of her supplies and have her panic and try to find them? Was that really being me or just being mean? "Any last words, Soph?"

"I'm not dead yet," Henrietta deadpanned.

"If you were, hopefully you'd be wearing something different," Sophie pronounced honestly. Henrietta groaned.

"There's nothing wrong with my clothes!"

"They make you look frumpy and pathetic," Sophie stated factually. I almost wanted to whistle in amazement when her words malformed Henrietta's frown to an intolerantly frigid smile.

"This frumpy and pathetic girl is leaving now. _Thanks_." I actually thought she was angry until I saw her hand lifting to wipe away any indication of tears. I tackled her again, accompanied once more by Poona.

Once we had been disassembled, we strode sullenly to the west of Violet City, where the pathway broke out into a route. Up ahead we saw the sign marking the destination and a couple of other trainers who had just disembarked. Some of them could be seen bragging about the first badge, while others were skittering and searching desperately through their bags. Up ahead, two boys were engaged heatedly in a battle, and one of them looked as if he was losing badly. The other guy was grinning madly, invigorated by his incoming victory.

It was going to be competitive as a trainer, which was why I wanted to be one _so_ badly with how much I loved and thirsted for a challenge. I almost worried for Henrietta—_almost_, but I knew that she could take care of herself. She was the one who considered the consequences of every nitpicking action. She knew what she was getting herself into.

"I'm going to plow you in the ground some day," I said randomly. Henrietta raised her eyebrows dubiously at me, smiling challengingly. "Like a hoe. _I'm going to plow you like a hoe._"

She was aware of my joke and had laughed rightfully, only grazing the underbelly of that threat and shoving it off before it had the weight to settle.

"_Right_. You'd be three years too late."

That stung, and I had to restrain my hand before it reflexively punched whatever was nearest to me. That would have been Sophie, but with how angry the comment had made me I would have sent it flying in Henrietta's direction. Regardless, I smiled tightly and supplied her with yet another hug, the last one. Sophie waved since she had nothing better to do. We stood side-by-side, watching Henrietta walk away from us as if _we_ were her parents.

When she was gone from view and we had witnessed her rejecting other trainers' attempts at battles, Sophie turned stiffly around.

"…That's it? Sort of anti-climactic," I said drearily.

"I expected nothing less," she said blandly. I darted to catch up with her and Poona, who had miraculously left my side to follow Sophie.

"_Are we going to get food now?" _Poona asked kindly.

"No. Poona, you're kind of obese. When you're not on your tail, you're waddling, and that is unhealthy. How can you get so fat off of berries anyway?"

She sulked slightly. _"It's not my fault. You keep feeding me."_

"Because you keep asking for food."

"_Because you don't feed me."_

It was an argument that could have ricocheted off of the other's response, and somehow she'd still win. Don't ask me how; her answer just made sense for some reason even if it was contradictory. I would let her have that much since I had called her fat.

I could still understand Pokéspeech. After my parents had confessed they had hired a tutor, I asked Sophie about it and clarified the possibility. She found the event to be suspicious and claimed that if I was as young as they said I was then I would have no memory of it. However, if I had truly learned it in my developing stages, there was a chance the language could resurface in my memory when I was older and that I would naturally be able to understand it. Pokéspeech, Sophie explained, works differently from other languages in the fact it is an adaptive language. This was how Pokémon were able to understand English without having to learn it. If I had any knowledge of Pokéspeech, even minimally, I would be able to adapt to it and learn it completely with more practice. Judging by the fact I could understand everything Poona said, this meant I could understand the language as well as English; I just couldn't speak it. According to Sophie, humans are only capable of understanding it; they can't speak it.

"I insinuate that you will be calling her soon." So that was Sophie's prediction for the day. Why was she always right?

"Yep! Want to be with me when I do?"

"No."

Ouch.

"That does not mean I won't miss her. That means it would be ridiculous to call this soon."

"Well, I _am_ ridiculous," I admitted. "I'll do the same for you when you leave next year."

"It would still be ridiculous."

Sophie remained with me even though she would normally go home this late in the afternoon. Unfortunately, that meant she was with me when I made two awful discoveries. One, I called Henrietta's phone. A man answered.

She had given me the wrong phone number.

At first I thought maybe the guy had stolen the phone, so I blatantly started threatening him with very mature descriptions. When he insistently kept saying it was his phone and I had honestly been given a wrong number, I hung up angrily and threw the phone across the room. It plunked against the wall destructively and left what I would regretfully discover was a dent. Sophie quirked her left eyebrow habitually.

"She gave you the wrong number."

"Yeah. She gave me the wrong number."

_Why_ would she do that? It's not as if she'd gain or lose something by doing that. Well…she'd gain silence and lose a friend, but _why_ would she want that? After such a tearful goodbye, too…

I was baffled and somewhat betrayed. Sophie, too, felt a little betrayed, and the ferocity for it had never been more prominent on her face. It was the first time she had come close to looking devilish, and that was saying something.

So here was something Sophie and I could definitely share: the hatred of betrayal. Sophie hated it more than I did, I think. She was always keeping promises and mercilessly snubbing anyone who broke theirs. She was loyal and true to her word, and the fact Henrietta couldn't be true to hers showed that we had misjudged her. Had she even stopped to consider the consequences for this?

Needless to say, I started stomping throughout the house when I went into the kitchen to get a snack. Of course I had Poona at my heels, and Sophie lingered close by, situating herself in one of the armchairs in the living room. I was just about to open the fridge when something tacked by a magnet on the door caught my eye.

A signed registration slip, allowing Trevor to take summer classes.


	4. Promises

_4. Promises_

* * *

I think Sophie guessed why I was so furious all of a sudden, but she didn't offer her input as she would normally do. For once I wouldn't have tolerated it if she did, and she could probably sense that.

Poona scratched my heel in an attempt to get my attention. I jumped, astonished it had actually _hurt_.

"_Foo—"_

"Not _now_, Poona!" I shouted disruptively, and plodded heatedly past her, dashing for my parents' bedroom.

I was going to enter when Trevor's door swung open and I grabbed a fistful of fabric instead, yanking his face to mine.

"How did you do it?" I demanded roughly.

"Wh-wha—"

"Summer classes. Mom and Dad signed you up for them." I shook him after a tense silence. "Answer me!"

He was almost frightful as he tried to declaw me, struggling frenetically. Unable to detach me, he said quickly, "I didn't do anything! I swear!"

I released him when Mom appeared from her doorway, surveying us fearfully.

"What's going on?"

"You signed him up for summer classes! How could you do that?" I roared. Poona peeked in from the living room with her ears lowered apprehensively.

Trevor wriggled out before the battle became too bloody, dodging my hand as I tried to swing it around to stop him.

"I'll cut off your head in your sleep and donate it to the basketball team!" I threatened, not scarily, but in the forcefully tough way I was known for. Mom took it very seriously, as usual.

"Rochelle, stop it!" she ordered, snatching my wildly flurrying hands.

"Mom, this doesn't make any _sense_! You've held me back _for years_. I had to say goodbye to my best friend, who I probably won't ever be able to talk to again because she was a butt-face and didn't give me her number. In a year from now, I'll have to say goodbye to my other best friend, and she probably won't want to talk to me either!" I paused, supplying Sophie with an opportunity to object and defend our friendship.

The silence was grating and hurtful, but I shook it off, using it as a way to cradle my fury rather than make it crumble.

"_See_? I mean, what else am I supposed to do with my life? Do you honestly think I'll be good at anything else?"

Now that I thought about it…there were a lot of things I'd be good at. Since I was four, my parents had placed me in martial arts and caused me to flourish with skills in self-defense. I didn't have to worry about any sort of hobbies because they had pushed me into taking ballet, which _did_ make me somewhat graceful and balanced and flexible, but I still hated that damn dance with a passion. They had forced me into the sport of swimming, making sure I was equipped with the knowledge of safety. They even signed me up for lessons for the harp and flute, which had both been as boring as hell but had paid off when I had desired a chance to show off musically. The only thing that had really fallen through had been singing lessons, and that had probably been because I was always speaking very loudly and stressing out my vocal cords to the point of abuse.

My parents had always kept me busy, pressuring me into a new hobby before I was done with the previous. _Why_? I was positive Jacoby never had to do such a thing, and Trevor hadn't either. Jacoby had always willingly taken baseball and other sports, but that didn't count. Why me? Was it because I was the only girl? Because they were scared of their little girl going out into the world and being a trainer? That couldn't be it. Trevor was the youngest and definitely the weakest. They were the most protective of him, not me.

I stared at my mother critically, the truth dawning on me. "…You don't want me to be a pokémon trainer."

"We only want what's best for you, Chelly, and we _know_ you want to be a pokémon trainer, but you're not ready and—"

"How do _you_ know I'm not ready? Aren't my professors supposed to be the ones who decide?" I retorted.

"Yes, and we consulted them. They agreed."

_That_ bit me in the neck. I was bleeding onto the floor now. My words were starting to leak outward, too, confusing my thoughts with my passable speech. "They were probably just being kiss-asses since you and Dad are the parents and stuff…"

"Rochelle, watch your mouth!" she chided me. I customarily blocked out her bossy tone. It didn't even make it to my ears.

"They always said I was a good kid…_Then again_, their support would always save them from a rubber ekans or a bucket of water over the door," I noted aloud. My teachers had never been fond of my pranks.

"Rochelle." Mom beckoned me to a chair. "Sit."

I obeyed reluctantly, crossing my arms and kicking my feet forward as soon as I was positioned.

She kneeled down in front of me, grasping my hands gently. "You are special, but you are no different from your brothers. You will get to be a pokémon trainer if you really want to be one. I'm sorry you have to wait longer, but trust me, this is for the best. We will allow you to train Poona to prepare yourself, and you will have all the time in the world."

She looked away guiltily when she saw I wasn't reacting positively.

"Chelle, what do you want? Is there anything I can do to make it up to you? I've already apologized," she reminded me.

"…I get to cut and style my own hair."

She had been expecting this, but she still looked around to make sure Trevor or Dad weren't near to witness her bribery.

"…No dye."

"Deal."

We shook hands on it.

She cleared her throat and finished with, "Just continue to do better in school, okay?" She kissed my forehead as she rose and then retreated back into her room.

I pouted. I had been expecting a better explanation—one that conveyed exactly why I had been led astray all these years. I would find it out, eventually. I would make sure of it. At least I would be able to have awesome hair while doing it.

I returned promptly to the living room to find Sophie sitting patiently on the couch. I waved at her awkwardly and then hung my head.

"You heard her. You'll get to be a trainer," she reminded me sharply. Her voice had managed to pick my head up, but my pout was still in place. "So you shouldn't run away."

I stiffened. She was good. Sophie could read me so well it was as if she had written me. There was only one way to test her psychic abilities…

"Soph…how many fingers do I have behind my back?" I thrust my left hand behind me and trickily made a fist. She did not play along.

"I know you well enough to predict your actions, Chelle. Don't be stupid."

"…_Fine." _I stuck my tongue out._ "_And you were wrong because the answer was none."

"I never gave you a number. That technically means that had been my response all along."

…Did I already say she was good? I did? Just checking.

I looked down at Sophie's feet to find Poona curled up against her, pouting grumpily. If there was anything she had inherited from me as her owner, it was my pout.

"Come on, Poona. Feeding time!"

"_Yay!" _Sulkiness forgotten, she jumped up on her tail, beating me to the kitchen.

As I was placing the berries in her paws, I slunk back into my thoughts. _Would_ I get to be a trainer?

Of course I would. I wasn't going to let my parents hold me back. I'd run away if it came to that, even if Sophie firmly disapproved of this act.

I could hear Henrietta's voice echoing in the back of my mind, her presence lingering if only to serve as my persisent conscience. _But wouldn't that be drastic?_

But wasn't giving your best friends the wrong phone number also drastic?

My conscience shut up after that.

* * *

I was definitely going into hysterics because I had accidentally called Sophie '_Soapy'_ and started madly giggling as a result. Sophie waited patiently, not annoyed for once that I was wasting her time. I think she preferred it this way.

I wiped a fallen tear away unthinkingly, my bottom lip quivering. It was always hard to tell if Sophie cared, especially since I was so showy about my sympathy and my feelings. She had never been that way, so I had been expecting this…but still. I was hoping we had manufactured some progress since Henrietta had left.

I was getting ready to speak when Sophie's hand shot out in front of me, clutching a tissue solidly. I grabbed it gratefully and used it to dismantle the downpour of tears I knew were about to roll down my cheeks.

"Th-thanks, Soph…"

She didn't say anything. Just continued to watch me. Her starter pokémon was also watching me, deeply fascinated by both of our actions. Poona had tried getting the sneasel to stare her down just as interestedly, but the reticent pokémon had rudely ignored her, causing her to try harder to gain the sneasel's attention despite her changeless failures.

"Well, Soph…I'm going to miss you. A lot…like so much it hurts…like heart-attack-material-kind-of-hurting…Hey, I even think my shoulder's tingling…Ohmy_gosh_, my shoulder's tingling," I cried suddenly, and Poona latched onto my leg comfortingly, holding down the fort before it could collapse completely.

"You're not dying," Sophie said levelly.

"I-I know, but…You don't even ask if I'm okay? That's pretty harsh," I said distractedly.

"Chelle, you don't need me."

"But…but you complete me," I attempted frailly, sporting a weak grin and making a heart out of my hands. She was still not amused. I didn't think there had ever been a time I had actually gotten her to smile, sadly.

"Okay, fine. But you're wrong. I do need you. You're my best friend since Henrietta decided oh-so-lovingly to not be mine. You're all I have left, and I know you'll stick to your word instead of stepping all over it like Henrietta did," I said grudgingly.

After a year had passed, I still hadn't completely forgiven Henrietta. She hadn't tried contacting me or coming to visit. I was going to go up to her parents and ask if they had her actual number, but then I remembered how much Henrietta had disliked them and knew that she wouldn't have given them the actual number even if her life had depended on it. Would Lillian have it? I would mug the girl for it, if that's what it took. My talent in thievery had never exactly died.

I eyed the sneasel hatefully, almost blaming it for taking Sophie away from me. It met my look with a fiercer one, piercing my premise with narrowed eyes. Its ears were pointy, but its left ear was longer and streaked with pink, jetting off the top of its head to match the sharpness of its teeth and the claws which it now held guardedly to its torso. It was icy and black and somehow embodied the thorns of Sophie's heart by just being itself, but I could tell that there was a vast difference between this pokémon and its owner: Sophie's heart was melted despite how coldly she talked. She pretended she was too frosty to be eaten, but I knew deep down she was sweet enough to give cavities. Who cares if I had never seen her smile? It was there. Somewhere.

"You're my best friend, too," she said truthfully, and held her hand out again. I almost thought she wanted the tissue back and then realized what was happening.

It was my turn. My smile could not be erased, and by shaking hands with Sophie I had probably frozen it until she left for good.

It shocked me when she didn't let go immediately and how she suddenly pulled me forward, bringing her other arm to my back and then pushing me back just as quickly.

It was a hug. It was the briefest, most incomplete hug _ever..._but it was a _hug_.

I was aware of how tearful I had become in that instant. She already looked like she regretted it but didn't bring it up. I think she was determined to smother its memory before I could shamelessly hold it against her. I wished I had Henrietta's number if only to call her and rub it in her face.

In that moment, I examined her. It didn't look like she had grown _at all_. While I was growing dangerously fast, Sophie had remained timeless—unchanging and frozen. Perhaps it was fitting for her to have a sneasel as her starter. It definitely demonstrated the degrees of her character, how guarded and icy she could be while still having the fur to warm her up. I was towering over everything at this point, having reached a few inches past five feet, while Sophie was still bridging the end of four. I didn't point this out, however, because she would have renounced any connection with me. She hated to be regarded as anything but equal.

"Can I call you? Every day?"

"Not every day," she disagreed instantly. "That's unreasonable."

"Yeah, okay, _fine_. But can I call you?"

"Yes…Do not call me today," she instructed, almost balefully.

"Okay." I was lying, and she knew I was lying, but somehow the fact this wasn't being mentioned was also okay.

"I promise I'll come back to see you. I will talk to you, too, but I can't comprehend a conversation each day. I will be occupied with the journey ahead."

"I know…I just wanted to say that I'm proud of you," I said, after a thoughtful pause.

Already she had done something Henrietta hadn't dared to do: she had faced Falkner and gotten the first gym badge. With her sneasel it hadn't been too difficult. Its aim had been deadly, and after landing hit after hit the birds had taken a landing of their own and plummeted uncomfortably into the ground. I couldn't help but wince after seeing that. Falkner had done the same, though with a little bit more anger involved.

"…Thank you."

Had she ever even thanked me before? I couldn't remember.

"Nodamnitthank _you_!" I even did a little bow. I didn't know why I had thrown in the "damn it." Ever since I had discovered cuss words, I had been using them almost as much as I was breathing. This displeased my parents, but I sneakily managed to use them while I wasn't around them. Sophie was tolerant of my word choice, but she didn't seem to care either.

I grinned at her widely. I really was making this awkward. I usually was the one making it awkward with my random outbursts (none of them very appropriate), but this was the uncomfortable sort of awkward that I couldn't stomach and would flounder helplessly in as if it had mudded me in one spot. Sophie's silence wasn't helping either.

"You can stop being inept now," she suggested helpfully.

"…Right." I scratched the back of my head. It was enough to draw her attention to it.

"I still don't like your hair and insist you cut it."

Well, in my opinion, it was the perfect goodbye.

I watched Sophie leave and kept watching even when she started battling someone. She ground them into dust, is what it looked like, and took her earnings eagerly. When she turned and saw me staring, she gave one last wave and departed with the female sneasel—who I heard Poona call Argent—trotting carefully from behind her. They disappeared into the closest route, shrouded by huddling trees and bushes, all of them probably housing different pokémon.

I whirled around, nearly trampling Poona with the suddenness of the twirl. She leapt out of the way, embedding her tail into the soil to meet my height.

"_Are we going to train now?"_

Just a year ago that question would have had the word 'food' in it. The fact she was asking for experience made me prouder and solidified my determination to keep training. I was going to be a trainer. I needed to be. I could be cooperative until I earned my license. Then I was going to do whatever the hell I wanted.

"Of course we are, Poona! I think we can find some rattata in Route 31," I responded happily, trekking to the east.

"_Yay! Then afterward can we get some food?"_

Okay, so maybe we had a long way to go, but it was definitely a start.


	5. We Are Young

_5. We Are Young_

* * *

Poona evolved when I was on the verge of turning thirteen. This pleased me considerably and made me jump around, cheering about how her timing couldn't be more perfect. While she had been cute and lovable as a beige sentret with a white circle on her tummy, perked ears, stubby legs, and a powerful striped tail, she was even more so now as a furret. Her eyes were somehow bluer while still maintaining their regular brown shade, and her ears were pointier and more drawn back. Her tail was bigger, thicker, and strong enough to dimple the floor. I had read somewhere that she would eventually grow to be six feet long, but as of now she was somewhere between four and five feet long.

When I leapt into the house to show off Poona, she started jack-hammering the floorboards with her hardened tail. Mom was _not _happy. Dad said that she might know a move called iron tail but didn't broach the subject with Mom staring at him too hotly.

I would include it in my schedule to give Poona at least one hug each day and not bicker when she pleaded for food. I was too proud of her to give her a hard time now. Eventually I would snap with how much she had reduced the berry supply (mostly without my consent and supervision), but right now I was going to let her blossom before I plucked her petals.

My birthday was coming up dangerously fast, and I never missed an opportunity to remind Mom and Dad.

"Hey."

"Yes?"

"Guess what?"

"What, Chelle?"

"My birthday is in five days."

"I know, honey. I was there when I gave birth to you."

"Right. Good to know it wasn't Dad carrying me for nine months."

"Ha! Your father couldn't have handled what I went through with the three of you. We still have your birth tape. Do you want to see it?"

"No, I really don't. No evidence required. Seriously. Plus, that's just gross." I couldn't see myself as a newborn because then I'd also see myself covered with gunk. Ew. No thanks.

When my birthday came up, however, Mom insisted we treat it as if it were my last one and forced me to watch the tape anyway. ("Look, Chelly, there you are! You used to be so small, and now look at how much you've grown!" "Mom, turn it _off_…I feel sick…") Surprisingly, she didn't regret this, even when I threw up on the new couch. That was probably because she was crying too hard about how fast I was growing up to even care.

I also got a birthday call from Jacoby, but it was the wrong kind of call since he hadn't been the one to call us. Mom had called him to beg him to come home. It shocked me, since Jacoby had been training for years now. He was fifteen, turning sixteen in September. Why was she asking him to come home now?

And then I saw the news. There had been a terrorist attack on the Magnet Train taken from Saffron City to Goldenrod City. Almost twenty people had died from the explosion, which had damaged nearly the entire train. Jacoby was supposed to have been boarding that train. He had beaten all the gym leaders in Johto and was thinking of taking on the Elite Four, but he decided instead to go to Kanto in order to beat the gym leaders there and gain more experience before he did so. Almost instantaneously upon seeing the report, Mom recalled what his plans were and called him up.

When I got on the phone with him, he was sort of quiet. It was weird. Jacoby was usually as hyper—more sheepishly and repentantly so, but still—as me. The fact he didn't have much to say this time was worrisome.

"…Marco," I said suddenly, scouring for a topic.

"Polo," he answered with a sigh. He sounded tired, but I could still hear the smile in his voice. "Happy birthday, Chelle."

"I'm going to kick your ass."

As if he had been expecting this threat, he continued, "With Poona? Mom and Dad told me. Congrats. I can't wait to come back and meet her. Is she really as cute as they've been saying?"

I was a little miffed by this. _I _was supposed to be the one bragging about Poona because _I_ was her trainer. Not Mom and Dad. Plus, Jacoby sucked with small talk. I was used to him stalling and beating around the bush, but I hated it when he avoided the obvious issues. Which he did. _All the time._

"Yeah, she's freaking adorable. Her tail could destroy your balls on impact."

"Do you _really_ want to threaten me right now?" he asked, exasperated. He almost sounded shaken. If I had witnessed something like that, I probably wouldn't have allowed the fearful vibrations to creep into my voice. Jacoby and I were alike, so the fact I could hear his fear told me how scary the experience had been for him.

"Yes," I answered sturdily. "Aren't I the only one who can? Please don't tell me you're wussing out on me."

He sighed, giving up. "I'll be home soon. I'm riding back on PMS—"

"_PMS_? As in girly hormones and periods and all that?" I frowned. "You named one of your pokémon PMS?"

"Her real name is Preen, but yeah, I call her PMS because she's the moodiest fearow I've ever met. She doesn't mind it too much. Everyone on the team calls her it now," he added with a chuckle.

I laughed, a noise he was happy to hear. "_Cool_. You didn't name any of them vagina did you? Is that legal?"

Mom looked up at me from where she was sitting, arching her eyebrows. She didn't look as if she was going to scold me since I was only demonstrating my knowledge about the reproductive system, which I was currently (and disgustingly) learning in school. If anything, I had to become a trainer in order to escape awkward lessons like that. It didn't help that I kept making inappropriate jokes whenever the subject was brought up. Dad coughed uncomfortably.

He laughed legitimately this time and said, "You'll see. I'll be there hopefully by tomorrow." He wished me another happy birthday. I handed the phone back to Mom before she could erupt into tears once again.

Trotting to my room, I tugged Poona by her ear. She followed after one jerk.

"Well, Poona, we're going to have to beat Jacoby until he either pukes or cries," I announced cheerily.

"_Why? Isn't that mean?" _At least I hadn't messed up with raising Poona with morals. Yet.

"Nope. In fact, it's the right thing to do." Didn't every little sister deserve to beat their older brother with their cute, hungry furret? "Come on, let's go train."

For the rest of the day, we bounded outside and focused on cutting down any wild pokémon that came our way. Poona could wipe them out with one hit, and if she used her tail she probably would have killed them. It was actually a little hard to tell where her tail began, too, because it looked as if it had morphed into her body. We gave up for the day when the sinking sun marked the evening's end. Plus, we were _starving._

As soon as I got home and had devoured some much needed food with my equally hungry furret, I called Sophie.

"Heya, Soph! I miss you so much it _hurts_," I said dramatically, clutching my chest. "What are you up to?"

"I miss you, too," she replied routinely, already using that as a greeting. I had said it so much whenever I called her she would automatically say it back now. "I'm in Goldenrod City."

My hand got tighter on the phone. I was uneasy about Jacoby being there, but with Sophie it was even worse. I knew she could take care of herself, but she was still so small for her age and downright adorable. Had she been near the station when the attack happened?"

"You're okey-dokey right?"

"Of course." She brushed off my worry before I could even convey it. "Happy birthday, Chelle. Truthfully, I almost forgot about calling you."

That actually didn't bother me. Maybe because her honesty was refreshing and dearly missed. "Thanks, Soph! Why are you in Goldenrod?"

"I'm investigating." She sounded as if she was distracted with something, her voice distant. Was I on speaker?

"HELLO PEOPLE OF GOLDENROD!" I screamed into the phone.

She sounded closer, and annoyed, when she replied. "I thought you might have grown up by turning thirteen, but I realize I was being too hopeful."

"Are you investigating the train attack?" I asked warily.

"Yes. I wasn't nearby when it occurred, but I could still hear the explosion from a mile away."

"_Why_ are you investigating? Leave that to the police." Normally I would be on board with such a thing and would have suggested doing something to aid the investigation, but I didn't want her getting into any trouble. I'd be damned if I lost my Sophie to some stupid terrorists.

"I can take care of myself," she said dismissively. "I don't believe in what they're telling us."

"What? That it was a terrorist attack? I doubt the city would just lie and decide to attack itself. Are you calling the city emo that it would be willing to set explosives on itself? Kinda drastic," I said flatly.

"It was a terrorist attack, but I don't believe they were trying to relay any kind of message," she said wonderingly.

I didn't want her to dig into this too deeply. Sophie was willing to do and find out anything she put her mind to. I had to watch out for her since she didn't care enough for herself to do that. She just did whatever she felt like doing without consultation or consequences. That's what really divided the line between intelligence when it came to Sophie and Henrietta.

Henrietta, who I hadn't seen in years. Had she forgotten about me, or was she battling to do so like I was? All I knew was that she had been aiming to cut the ties completely. I hoped the guilt had been worth it for her.

"Can you come down and see me?" I tried. "I haven't seen you in _forever_, and I want to see if you've grown. Plus, you owe me a birthday present."

"I can't come down right now. I'm sending your birthday present by mail. I'll be sure to send my picture with it. And I've grown only an inch." She didn't seem to mind that she wasn't growing. Mentally she was probably already fully grown though, so that compensated somewhat.

I pouted. "_Fine_."

She knew me well enough to know what I was doing. "Stop pouting. I will see you again. I promised you that. I'll keep my word. For now, be safe and have a happy birthday. Goodbye, Chelle."

"Bye, Sophie…"

I hung up and sighed. I just hoped Sophie knew what she was getting herself into. I hoped that she was being careful and not stupid. I wished she would even run into Henrietta, who would probably stop and make her consider the consequences before moving forward. She needed that sort of reasoning now.

For whatever reason, there were terrorists and bullies, and all of them were coming out fully loaded. Most of the headlines I'd seen my dad reading involved trainers being attacked or killed. This didn't help my dream in the least, but I would allow Poona to shred them before Mom got a good look at them. It would take only one read headline in order for my parents to change their minds and make me stay. My dad always read the paper, but he never really seemed to notice the headlines. Was he ignoring them for my sake?

Trevor was getting his license the same time that I was. He was turning ten in May. This was actually perfect timing considering trainers couldn't really obtain their license until the summer. Even though my birthday was February 8th, I would have to wait until the summer before I could actually get my trainer license. Great.

Mom and Dad seemed to appreciate the wait more than I did. When Jacoby came back, they appreciated that even more. I pounced on him and sent us both sprawling to the ground, which of course prompted Poona to do the same. When she brought the tail out, we detached ourselves with our hands up, hoping she wasn't able to fatally use it on us like she'd been able to on wild pokémon.

When he stood back up, I studied him conventionally. He had gotten taller, that was for sure. He looked to be about nearly six feet, but I was getting there. I was about five inches below six, and I was just thirteen. His hair had gotten scruffier and darker, looking as if it had browned from all his time in the sun. In addition to this, it looked as if he was in serious need of a shave, with all of the wispy hairs on his chin.

"So this is Poona?" Jacoby asked, scratching her behind the ears. She purred and swooped herself against his legs, content.

"That's right, Beardy. Whoa, Chewy's a _beast_ now." I pointed to the giant raticate standing behind him. He stood on his lower legs. His arms were tiny and barely visible because of how thick his tan fur was. His tail was long and spindly, while his teeth looked enormous and deadly, mustached by his long whiskers.

"Yep, that's Chewy. His appetite has taken up nearly all of my money," he said, somewhat sourly. "And 'Beardy'?"

I shrugged. "What can I say? You're a potential hobo."

This comment actually pleased him. He beamed. Boys and their facial hair. I would never get it.

"Do you want to meet the rest of the team?"

"Hell to the yeah."

He had a team of all six, unsurprisingly. If he didn't at this point I would have been thumping him in the side and holding something else against him. Luckily, he still hadn't brought up the fact I was going to be an even later trainer than he was. I was waiting for it, though, readying a kick for when he would bestow me with one of his devious smirks.

His team started with Chewy, the raticate. When I saw PMS the fearow, I laughed a little bit until she squawked and tried pecking me, threatening to make me bald. That shut me up immediately.

His quagsire, Litmus, was antisocial, but that was probably because he was incredibly slimy and lazy.

When he released his primeape, Goober, the giant ball of scruff nearly punched him, if not for Chewy blocking him and landing an equally ailing hit.

His parasect, named Spore, was the quietest on the team and seemed to be incredibly thoughtful, but enjoyed being out and situating himself in the ground. The giant mushroom on him scared me, for reasons I didn't know, and he surprised me when he suddenly released spores into the atmosphere after getting comfortable.

The weirdest pokémon on his team was probably his unown—shaped like a C—whom he had named Cool. He talked with a lot of words that started with 'c' and was very cryptic as a result. He was the one I was most interested in, even if all of his team was interesting.

"You named him 'Cool'?"

"Yeah, it was an accident. When I caught him in the ruins, I released him and shouted, 'Cool!' Then it was just his name. He won't respond to anything else," he said, when I kept giving him a demeaning look.

Cool turned his single eye in my direction and floated over. _"Could you be the charismatic, clean, and competitive sister of my captor?"_

"Why, yes I am!" I chirped, and he blinked. He probably hadn't been expecting a response. Jacoby hadn't either.

"You can understand him?" he inquired, shocked.

"Yep! I'm fluent in Pokéspeech because _apparently_ Mom and Dad signed me up for a tutor to teach me it when I was in diapers or something," I said proudly. "By the way, it sounds like Goober wants to kill you."

"_You foolish fool who foolishly fools with foolish fools!" _Goober cried, getting ready to attack, but Chewy once again held him back with a growl.

"And he abuses the word 'fool'…"

"_They're all weird," _Poona declared, sitting next to Chewy, whom she liked best anyway.

"_You get used to it," _Litmus said simply.

"Goober never liked me, ever since I first caught him. He's convinced he can be let go if he kills me. I wanted to take on the Elite Four, but there's no way we can win with his attitude. So I was thinking of taking on the Kanto gym leaders, too, just to wear him down a bit," Jacoby said with a shrug, and then frowned. "Mom and Dad gave you a tutor? I don't understand—"

"_It's not healthy to have him on the team," _Spore said, steering the conversation back on topic. He sounded a little raspy, which really did tell me he hardly ever talked.

"_He doesn't play nice, and he never follows orders," _Chewy agreed in a growl.

"If he doesn't obey, shouldn't you let him go?"

"_Don't you think we've already said all that?" _PMS screeched. _"Jacoby doesn't listen to us because he doesn't use his ears because he thinks he can do everything! If he's that pompous of a fool, then Goober can go and kill him!"_

Jacoby looked a little pissed at the exchange and crossed his arms. "You guys forget that I can hear everything you're saying! And no, I'm not releasing Goober! If I do ever release him for his bad behavior, I'm going to give him a lesson he won't soon forget!" Goober took this as a challenge and beat his fists together.

"_I will crush you until you're as nonexistent as your brain, you fool!" _We ignored him, which he didn't like, but Chewy was batting him off well enough.

"So you can understand them, too?" I asked, wondering if Mom and Dad really _had_ given him the special treatment after all.

"Yes. These are _my_ pokémon. If you spend a long enough time with pokémon, you can understand Pokéspeech to an extent," he reminded me sharply. "I don't pick up everything, but you can't really understand everything unless you take lessons anyway. Also, it's hard to understand pokémon that aren't your own."

Oh, right. Sophie had mentioned that when she had talked to me about it. It made me feel good that Mom and Dad had hired a tutor for me and not for Jacoby.

I was about to smirk and bring this up when I turned and saw Jacoby wearing the expression I was just about to use.

"GUESS WHAT, VIOLET CITY? ROCHELLE WORLEY IS A _LATE_ TRAINER!"

Jacoby ran down the street, with me gaining on him, Poona chasing us happily, Cool floating with fascination, Spore burrowing himself into the ground, Litmus sleeping, PMS ruffling her feathers, and Chewy scurrying to defend his trainer from Goober's growing wrath.

It was just another day in the Worley household. Move along.

Too bad there wasn't going to be another day like this for a long time.


	6. Visiting Hours Are Over, Weather You

_6. Visiting Hours Are Over, Weather You Like It Or Not_

* * *

I was _really_ happy to have Jacoby back, and it didn't seem as if he'd be going away anytime soon with how dangerous it had been getting lately. I had a feeling Mom and Dad would make him stay until Trevor and I got our licenses so that we could all leave at the same time. At least then their children would be able to watch out for one another. It would be only a few months until the summer time and I would be able to get my license. _Just_ a few more months.

It had only been three weeks later since Jacoby's arrival that strange stuff started happening all over Violet City. We started seeing a lot of foreign pokémon, all swooping in with the fell wind or the incoming storms. And we had a _lot_ of storms.

Around Violet City, where rain would often be light and hardly effective, it was heavy. I took one step outside of the porch and ended up sopping wet. My parents firmly objected to me getting a cold, so over the next few days, other than spending time at Earl's Pokémon School and taking my regular lessons, I was forced to stay indoors. The rain was intolerantly heavy and severe. At one point it was believed we would even be experiencing some tornadoes and hurricanes. Jacoby joked by saying mother nature was on its period, earning several slaps in the face—not due to offense from the comment, just because I wanted to hit him.

We had started seeing an irregular pattern in the torrential weather and how it was bringing foreign and sometimes rare pokémon over. I even saw several swannas, mothims, and shiftrys—all of which I _knew_ were from different regions. I wanted to catch them, but Mom barred us inside and forced us to stay away from the windows. It had just gotten too disastrous too suddenly, and there wasn't an explanation even scientists could offer, though they did convey several unproven theories.

I had tried calling Sophie, but our conversations were often fragmented and short. The reception from where she was was terrible, apparently, with her being in a location that was experiencing just as foul weather. The last thing I got to say to her before a period of zero contact set in was that I would call her when the rain stopped. Unfortunately, it never did, so I was stuck until the rain dispersed.

After about a month and half of Jacoby being forced to stay, he started to get restless and demanded Mom and Dad let him go so that he could go to Kanto after all.

"Why? It looks like some parts of Kanto wound up here," I said, gesturing to the window, where a sodden vulpix was strolling languidly through the garden.

I wanted to go outside and catch it, but Mom refused to let me outside where foreign wild pokémon could get a hold of me in this foul weather. I wanted to object, but as soon as I saw the lightning flash from outside I was ducking under my blankets in hopes of blocking out the eventual thunder clap. Lightning was my one of my greatest fears. I wanted to tough it out in order to get some awesome new foreign pokémon, but my irrational fear of getting struck told me that hiding was better for survival.

"Rochelle's right. There isn't anything you can't experience here now. Unova's in our front yard, Kanto's in the garden…and the weather is too dangerous to traverse," Mom said firmly.

"That's beside the point. It's not safe anywhere," he argued, gesturing to the television.

For weeks it had been reporting outrageous weather conditions, including a continental shift that involved Blackthorn City experiencing uncontrollable blizzards. Snowpoint in Sinnoh had actually gotten significantly hotter, while any of the seaside towns throughout the regions were destructively breezy and nearly drowned by the water that surrounded them. This was getting to be really weird.

"I don't care! You—"

We interrupt this argument to bring you a knock from the door. Mom and Jacoby halted, staring at the front door in surprise. Who would be roaming from house to house in this weather?

Since no one was making a move, I sighed, approaching the door and twisting the knob carelessly. Not only was I plastered with wet wind, but I was greeted by a bald stranger.

A monk. A monk was at my door.

I should have been used to such a presence since we lived in Violet City, which harbored Sprout Tower, the ultimate domain of monks and hippies, but I wasn't. I had been shirking Sprout Tower because I thought the monks inside were possible pedophiles with how often they stared out their windows while keeping their secrets strictly indoors. Mom scolded me and assured me they were peaceful, loving people, but this did nothing to comfort me whenever I turned and I found one of the dirty old men watching me. I had even screamed at one of them and publically accused them of being perverts, but this did nothing to stop their meditation or whatever sick hobbies they did indoors.

I vaguely recognized this man as one of the older monks there. He was bald, of course, with white eyebrows that buried his eyes and a thick mustache that almost resembled a beard had it reached his chin. He was soaking wet, causing his purple and yellow frumpy clothes to stick to his skin. His mustache lifted slightly, and I thought maybe it was a smile.

Instead of greeting him in the polite, humane way, I took a step back from the door into Jacoby's waiting hand, which halted me before I exploded into a panic. Creepy old guy who had trudged through the rain to get to your house? Never a good thing.

"Who is it?" Mom asked, stepping around Jacoby and me.

"A creepy old dude," I whispered.

I hadn't thought anyone but Jacoby had heard me, but suddenly the old man chuckled, surprisingly jolly.

"It's nice to see you, too, Rochelle."

He knew my name.

Mom worked against my panicked protests and calmly invited the man inside after he took off his muddy shoes. He shivered, gladly warmed from the heater we had left on during the torrential storm. Jacoby eyed him with just as much suspicion, but he protested against my plans of throwing out the man's shoes or having Poona chew on them until they were utterly destroyed. Killjoy.

The old man respectfully declined a seat in the living room or the kitchen and remained standing instead. Mom had brought him a towel that he could dry himself off with, and he had been patting himself off ever since. The only evidence that he had been previously wet was a small puddle by the front door.

"How has your family been doing, Leandra?" he inquired politely.

"We have all been very tired. This weather hasn't helped at Peter's Pokémart. He hasn't had too many customers, and he's had to close early for weeks because no one is willing to come outside due to the hazardous conditions," Mom said drearily.

"That is rather unfortunate," he replied sympathetically. "I do bear good news, however. We are in a belief that this climate will stop soon." There was a pause after he finished speaking, and Mom exchanged a considerable glance with him while it was happening.

"That's a relief," she finally said. She rocked on her feet, very nervous for some unexplainable reason. "One moment, please. I'll go and get Peter. I'm sure you'll have something very important to say."

Mom strode to her bedroom, making Jacoby the only one left for small talk since I was hiding behind a wall adjacent to the living room. While the old man inquired courteously about Jacoby's journey, I peeked around the corner. Poona mimicked my position.

"_What are we doing?" _she asked. She didn't quite grasp what I was doing or why I'd be hiding. She did proceed to sneakily stick her head out as a way to appease and mimic me, however.

"Shh. Nothing, Poona."

"_Then can I stick my paw out instead? My head hurts."_

"You know you don't have to look. It doesn't really matter what you do anyway."

Not really understanding the activity, Poona stuck her paw out instead of her head and then promptly fell asleep. Yep, that was definitely my furret.

I was so obviously eavesdropping, but Mom hadn't made a move to remove me since she had come back into the room with Dad. Did she want me to hear this or something?

"Rochelle, you can come out of hiding."

Damn she was good.

By moving I accidentally woke Poona up, but she rolled over after a moment of brief registration, unaffected. I stuck my hands in one of my many pockets, fingering what I thought was a piece of gum. When the old man glimpsed at me, I anxiously put it in my mouth and started chewing.

"I know you probably don't remember me, Rochelle, so this calls for another introduction. I am Elder Li, and I am in charge of Sprout Tower," he introduced, actually giving a slight bow. Maybe it was a part of his culture or something.

There was a silence in which everyone was expecting me to speak. When I finally did, I said, "I don't remember you, and I'd remember a mustache that big."

He laughed warmly. Mom and Dad chuckled nervously, glad he had taken it so well. I continued to scrutinize his face. I would have remembered an old guy for sure since I was so creeped out by every one I came into contact with.

"He was your Pokéspeech tutor," Mom supplied.

And then I remembered. The creepy old guy. The one who taught me how to understand Pokéspeech.

No, I'm kidding. I still didn't know who this man was. Elder Li? In charge of Sprout Tower? The man must have been a hermit because I had never seen him before. Any memory I might have had of him was blurry and inconsistent, which meant I had to have been incredibly young upon first meeting him. I couldn't recall a thing.

"It is fine if she doesn't recognize me," Elder Li replied reassuringly. "I hadn't expected her to. She was only three or four, if I recall."

"Yes, that's true," Dad agreed.

Jacoby was squinting at Elder Li as if he was remembering something. He probably did recognize the man; it just sucked that I didn't.

"I am here to deliver a very exceptional invitation," he stated.

The great hush in the room made me want to say something that jumbled the mood, but I sat silently back instead, petting Poona from her head to her tail.

"Sprout Tower is open to trainers tomorrow, and I heard you were housing a qualified trainer and two potential ones," he continued, his mustache brimming with a smile. "We would like to invite your family to the tower to observe our training and possibly extend yours."

Mom was way too enthusiastic about it. She clapped her hands together, making me flinch.

"That sounds great! Jacoby, Rochelle, Trevor, don't you three want to go? It sounds like it'll be a lot of fun."

At the mention of Trevor, I looked across the room and saw my nine-year-old little brother standing behind one of the couches in the corner. How hadn't I seen him come in? Had I been that distracted by this monk? Or was he that insanely quiet?

"I suppose I could," Jacoby said suspiciously. He was still looking between the three adults in the room as if they kidnapped his pokémon and hidden them throughout the house…Really, he should have been looking at me that way since that was exactly what I had done. It was weird that he hadn't noticed it yet though. His focus was unnaturally solid tonight.

Trevor nodded, bringing his hair forward so that it fell over his eyes. Still shy, still quiet. That hadn't changed with his age. He was so unlike Jacoby and me it was unsettling.

"…Do you guys have muffins?" I inquired.

Mom had a horrified look when I asked this, and Dad was trying not to grin. Jacoby also grinned, but Trevor stared at me in wonderment, probably wondering how he got stuck with such a crazy sister.

Elder Li's smile sprouted a laugh. "We have a wide assortment of foods, but if you like muffins, we'll have those, too."

"I'm in."

I avoided Mom's stern gaze and strode lazily to the kitchen. Poona drowsily leapt past Elder Li in order to catch up with me.

"Very well. That is all I came to say. I'll be expecting you three in the morning. Have a good evening," he bid politely.

"Would you like to stay here until the rain lets up? It really is monstrous outside, and I wouldn't want you catching any kind of cold," Mom offered.

"I really ought to be going, but thank you, regardless, for your hospitality, Leandra. The rain won't stop today, but something tells me it will be very sunny tomorrow."

He looked at me as he spoke the last sentence and gave us another smile before he was out the door with his mucky shoes.

"Rochelle Shilo Worley!"

There had almost been a switch present with Mom's emotions. All it took was the door closing behind Elder Li, and _flick_¸ Dad had married a beast—an incensed, chastising beast whom I lovingly called Mom.

"Um, yeah?" I bit into a cracker as I was speaking until I realized the gum was still in my mouth. I ignored that and kept chewing.

"You are not to be disrespectful, insincere, or rude to Elder Li, do you understand? He is a very honorable person with a high reputation, and I do not want you giving him a hard time! It is a great honor to be going over to Sprout Tower since the upper floors have been off-limits to citizens for years! Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, yeah." I swallowed and then moved my tongue, making sure the gum had survived the chewing.

When she realized she wasn't getting through to me, she turned to Jacoby. "Jacoby, tomorrow, if your sister is misbehaving in _any way_, I want you to slap her."

"_What?_!"

Jacoby smirked, zealous with this gifted power. He aimed his eyes on me as if I would suddenly become his target on a moment's notice. With how I behaved, I probably would very soon. "Her face? Her shoulder? Give me something to work with."

"The shoulder at most, but the face if her shoulder is bruised enough," Dad cut in jokingly. He hadn't meant it seriously, but it still hurt that he was going along with this.

I looked at both of them friskily. "Hey, that's indirect child abuse!"

"It is _justified_ indirect child abuse! Your father and I haven't been able to get through to you and stop your misbehavior. Frankly, I'm afraid we've spoiled you," Mom stated nastily.

"_Spoiled _me? How could I be spoiled when you let Jacoby and Trevor become trainers as soon as they could while you imprisoned me within this household?"

"You're not ready for the world yet—"

"_Trevor's_ not ready for the world!" I yelled, gesturing keenly to Trevor, who was still trying to blind himself with his hair. It almost looked as if he took offense to that when his head snapped upward and he sent a scowl in my direction. I didn't care enough to withdraw my statement.

"Trevor is perfectly capable of taking care of himself—"

"_I'm_ perfectly capable of taking care of myself!"

"He is responsible, respectful, and considerate—"

"_I'm _responsible, respectful, and considerate!"

"In a parallel universe," Jacoby said with a snort. Well there was no way I was going to tell him where his pokémon were now.

Mom continued, listing off my little brother's achievable traits. "Trevor has always done well in his classes, and he has gotten along with all of his teachers and classmates! We were never afraid of his interaction with other neighbors, and we knew he would take care of his pokémon just as much as he'd take care of himself."

"Look at Poona! _Do you see Poona?" _I pointed quickly to my furret.

Upon the attention, she waved with her tail and said cheerfully, _"Hello!"_

"I have taken _awesome_ care of Poona! Haven't I, Poona?"

"_I'm cold and hungry…"_

"You are _not_ helping, Poona!"

Mom crossed her arms. "Tomorrow, you will be on your best behavior. This will be your last warning. If you give the sages any sort of trouble, we will hold you back another year and keep holding you back if we fail to see improvement. Is that understood?"

"_Yeah_," I huffed, trying not to lose my cool. After all, it was now my ultimate goal to please them. I would have to learn how to juggle or balance on a ball if I planned on putting on an act. At least then it would be entertaining for me, too.

"Good. Dinner's almost ready." She checked the oven to be sure.

"I'm not hungry," I spat. That really meant I had already eaten and they had all pissed me off, so I no longer desired to be in their company.

I walked through the living room without too much confrontation when Jacoby suddenly whirled and smacked me in the shoulder. I didn't retaliate until I was certain Mom and Dad had stopped looking. He regretted that about ten minutes later, when he was scampering all over the house looking for his pokémon.

I didn't apologize to Trevor for pointing him out and basically labeling him as Mom and Dad's favorite. Dad did come to wish me good night, planting a kiss on my forehead despite how long I fought to keep it untouched. He won after tickling me, which resulted in a kiss on my forehead but a bruise on his chin from how combative I became whenever I was tickled. Mom, on the other hand, had distanced herself stubbornly. Whatever. I could handle the cold shoulder. I was so immune to it that I could even melt it.

Poona curled up next to me as I was drifting off to sleep. It was still raging with war between the rain and lightning, so, unfortunately, I didn't manage to sleep through it.

I was all too curious about Sprout Tower since the upper floors had been, what Mom said, unexplored for years.

What were they hiding up there, and why was it okay now of all times to show it?

My tiredness eventually won over my fear, but I still slept with my eyes cracked open that night.


	7. Grumpy and Guilty

_7. Grumpy and Guilty_

* * *

"Chelle, you wouldn't happen to know where Cool's poké ball is, would you?" Jacob inquired coldly, leaning against the wall.

He had managed to find five of his pokémon. I inwardly congratulated him but didn't shift from my foul mood, which had festered from last night's events.

"I don't know. How badly do you need a tampon?" I smirked at him cryptically.

He gave this thought five seconds before he dove into my bathroom and reached under the sink to scavenge through my lady accessories.

"Ah _ha!_"

He held up the ball victoriously, unaware of the stray tampon clinging to the back of his thumb. When he saw it, he wiggled his hand in practical panic until it was freed. He stared at his hand as if it had to be amputated now.

"Wow, I actually got you to touch a tampon. Do you feel femininely empowered now?"

He peered at me from the floor and then rose to his feet when he heard Trevor enter. "Are you two ready to go yet? We should have been there five minutes ago, and if Mom finds out we didn't make it on time—"

"She'll blame me because you guys are such perfect little angels," I interrupted scornfully.

Jacoby steered himself in my direction as I had bent downward to scoop Poona into my arms. She was getting heavier, but I could still manage without her squirming or my arms aching. I would take advantage of her smaller stages while I still could.

"Look, Chelle, they really are looking out for you—"

"So maybe you should stay, too, since they really are looking out for you," I said with insincere kindness.

"Ignore her. She's just mad," Trevor said dismissively. Why were Mom and Dad proud of Captain Obvious again?

I directed a glare at him this time. "Do not speak. If I hear you speak, I will give Poona permission to eat your tongue."

"_But that would be gross…"_

"I'll make sure he eats some berries so that the flavor sticks."

"_Just as long as they're sweet! I don't like the bitter ones!" _Then she did what I thought was a laugh (Or maybe even a purr of agreement? In any case, I was too mad to be disturbed by this.) and adjusted herself in my arms.

Trevor just gave me a glower and didn't say anything back. I strode past my brothers and trotted outside.

Elder Li had been right. It was the sunniest it had been in weeks. The cottony clouds were lolling sluggishly by as if they hadn't been sinisterly quaking with lightning and thunder for days on end. The sky was forgivingly blue, welcoming the sun back with a great, prevalent embrace as the land was drowned with enough light to evaporate the numerous puddles on the spot. Of course that was an exaggeration, since the plants had withered under the constant downpour, the atmosphere had gotten soggy and humid, and even the small river underneath the bridge connecting to Sprout Tower had flooded.

"Wow," Jacoby said, upon coming out.

"Yeah. It's almost as ugly as your face."

Ignoring me with Trevor to support his silence, he strode past me, slapping me in the shoulder. I made faces at him from behind as he led us to the tower.

Sprout Tower was ancient, but it looked renewed somehow, with wood that looked as if it had been glossily painted over. Out of everything we had seen so far in Violet City upon coming back outside, Sprout Tower had secured the least damage and seemed to make that proudly known as it towered over every building throughout the area. It bloomed rather than gloomed, prospering blithely under the rain's unvarying supremacy.

One of the younger monks was mopping up in front of the entrance. He swished the puddles toward the river. When he heard us, he looked up and smiled.

"Good morning. Are you the Worleys?"

"Good morning. Yes, we are," Jacoby answered politely. Good, boy. Sit, boy.

"Elder Li has been expecting you. You may head inside." He bowed as we walked by and resumed his work.

The inside was just as unharmed as the outside. The place was ageless, I had to say. There was a giant pillar in the center that went through the ceiling and was waving from side to side slowly, almost like a greeting. There was a lively pulse in the air here, like the place actually was alive and could sense we had arrived. The floors were freshly polished and plaited with wood, as were the walls.

I whistled. The tower responded with a dull, but resonating echo.

"Nice," I muttered, honestly impressed. I would have said more—something that would have made the monk's cover their ears with their hands since they didn't have hair to do it for them—but Jacoby's hand was ready to smack me if I misbehaved in any way.

Poona shifted so that she could escape my arms. She landed on the ground somewhat clumsily, her balance-beam tail saving her from an unforgiving head-dive. Jacoby, sensing the calm atmosphere, released Chewy so that he could scamper playfully by Poona. Trevor looked on without jealousy of our pokémon, but the anger I had instilled in him was obviously still present. At least he could pout like I could.

On the first floor there were monks scattered everywhere. A few were grouped in a corner, sitting on the ground and looking as if they were doing some type of yoga. Another group was situated at a table and eating breakfast.

I darted to their table before I scanned the rest of the place, searching the panel desperately. When I found the promised compilation of muffins, I greedily grabbed some and stuffed them in my mouth. Poona, following my example, scoured the table for her favorite foods. The monks didn't seem to mind this and smiled in mild amusement.

"Almost done?" Jacoby asked impatiently. I wondered why he wasn't devouring this as much as I was, but then I saw he had pocketed some biscuits. Good idea.

"Yup," I said, after swallowing a mouthful of muffin chunks, sticking some of the survivors into my empty pockets.

"Great. Let's head to the top floor."

"Weren't we supposed to wait for Elder Li?" Trevor asked.

"I think he's waiting on the top floor. If he's not, we'll probably run into him on our way up anyway," he said, scoping the first floor for any sign of the old man. I did the same, also confirming that the elder wasn't in sight.

"Right, let's go," Trevor said, taking the lead for once.

I didn't say anything even though every edge of my being was cunningly advising me to. I bullied him enough for being perfect. I could just allow him to flaunt his perfection some more before I got too sick of it. Thanks to the satisfying muffins, I was feeling nice enough. Once they were digested, however, I planned on resuming my uncooperative bitchiness. With age, I had gotten moodier, but that was possibly because I was sick of being in one spot and of my little brother earning all the prestige. The restlessness and hormones did not help, of course.

We headed up to the second floor to find it was identical to the first aside from another staircase in the upper corner of the room. This was significantly emptier with only one monk in view this time. To accompany him were a few yellow, mangled-looking bellsprout with gaping mouths and wriggling stem-arms. He bowed as he walked by us, not questioning our motives.

When we reached the third and final floor, the first thing that caught my attention was the xatu sitting on the far window. He was staring outside—at the sun, I thought—and seemed at ease. Elder Li had been standing by him, but when he heard us he turned and smiled, making his mustache lift.

"Good morning. How are each of you doing today?"

"Your muffins were very tasty."

Jacoby rolled his eyes. "What she means to say is she's in a bad mood and she's giving everyone a hard time about it. I'm doing fine, but Trevor's a little mad, too."

Trevor's scowl deepened at being mentioned. I resumed making faces at Jacoby from behind.

Elder Li didn't frown at this news, but did nod, as if he had been expecting this. "It seems as if each of you requires some relaxation. Come, we'll pull up some mats."

The silence was so silent that if he had dropped a pen on the floor it would have sounded guttural.

"For what?" I asked flatly.

"We are going to meditate. It is a practice that eases the spirit. It will only be for about ten minutes," he said, once he saw our disbelieving, reluctant faces.

When the mats were brought out by some wobbly bellsprout, I was going to object by lying on one and falling asleep instead. Jacoby and Trevor sat on one, however, and mimicked the position Elder Li was doing without complaint. Jacoby did keep opening his eyes, though, maybe to check and see if I was tame enough to not do anything stupid. I _was_ giving them a hard time, but at least I wasn't writing all over their faces right now.

Sighing, I sat on my own mat and closed my eyes, crossing my legs. I counted in my head and thought of about a thousand different things before our ten minutes were up. When I opened my eyes, I surprisingly did feel more relaxed but wasn't about to admit this. Jacoby and Trevor opened their eyes at the same time, looking equally astonished.

Elder Li stood and clapped his hands. On cue, the bellsprout returned to remove the mats, awkwardly taking them back out.

"Thank you for your cooperation," he said politely. I couldn't help but think he was only talking to me. "Now that we've rid our tension, there are a few decisions to make. Would you like to begin your training now or later?"

The answer was obviously now. Why else would we come?

"Now, please," Jacoby answered for us unanimously. Kiss-ass.

"Very well. For each of you there is a different style of training required, and some of you I can see aren't fully awake." He chuckled to himself about a joke none of us got. "Jacoby, you will be tasked with harming the bellsprout we have in Sprout Tower as minimally and gently as possible. It won't be easy with how strong and powerful your pokémon are. Remember that you have the power between letting them live or die."

Jacoby didn't look nervous, but his eyebrows furrowed at the thought of setting his stronger, more established pokémon on much weaker, inexperienced bellsprouts.

"Trevor." Upon being addressed, he straightened. "You will be using the bellsprout we have here to fight against your brother. You must try your best to instruct them to endure your brother's attacks and help them to survive. This is just as difficult as your brother's task." Trevor nodded obediently. "Very well. Please do this on the second floor. Sage Troy should be there to assist you."

My brothers paused to look over at me. I was smirking. They both thought I had landed the jackpot and were wondering what sort of training I was supposed to be doing. The fact he was keeping it from them just made it that more mysterious.

When they left, I veered toward Elder Li enthusiastically.

"What's the drill?"

"Rochelle." He smiled as he said my name, pausing. I was getting impatient and wanted him to hurry up already.

"You are going to…" He looked around the room, trailing off. "…sit."

"…Huh?"

"You are going to sit. Right there." He pointed to a spot in the room.

I looked at the spot he had pointed to and then looked back at him. "…Seriously?"

"Yes. It is part of your training," he said, quite seriously.

I walked slowly toward the spot he had pointed to and sat down. Poona bounded after me, jumping into my lap.

"…Now what?"

"That is for you to decide." Okay, he was seriously messing with me.

"I just sit here…like this?" I really wanted to give him a hard time and badger him as to how this could possibly be a part of my training, but I held my tongue. I did want to be here and do something interesting so I could brag about it to Jacoby and Trevor later on. If I sat here long enough maybe I would get to do something like that.

"Yes, you are doing very well." He nodded encouragingly and then ambled toward the stairs.

"Where are you going?!"

"I have to monitor your brothers' match. I'll return," he promised, and then left before I could splutter or say anything else.

I sat there, frozen, and yet not as pissed as I could be. Was this some kind of joke? Jacoby and Trevor somehow received more experience as trainers, and I was being shoved aside yet again. I wanted to get up, stomp up to him, and obscenely yell about how I didn't find this funny and he could go brainlessly meditate for all I cared, but, again, I restrained myself.

"_Why did they leave you?" _Poona asked curiously.

"I don't know, but at this point…_how_ am I going to be a trainer? No one wants me to be," I said bitterly. My shoulders slumped from tiredness, not defeat—which was what I kept persuading myself to believe.

"_But you have only a month left, right?"_

"Two months, but yeah…"

"_Then you shouldn't fret about it! There's still time," _she assured me.

"I don't think so, Poona…I don't think _anyone_ is going to let me be a trainer…"

Poona hopped forward so she could turn around and face me. _"Why _do_ you want to be a trainer?"_

"Because…"

Because I love pokémon. Because I hate staying in one spot. Because I hate my parents being in control of my life. Because I love the thought of traveling and being with my friends and seeing the world. Because I was tired of being treated differently.

"_Because?" _Poona prompted, making me realize I had listed all of those answers in my head.

"Because I deserve to be who I want to be and do whatever I want wherever I want," I said finally.

"_Aren't you already doing that? Why would traveling with other pokémon make a difference?"_

My furret was starting to get a little philosophical on me. "It wouldn't be just _other_ pokémon, Poona. It'd be you. And we'd go everywhere. We could get gym badges and go to the Safari Zone and capture all kinds of pokémon…"

"_What's the Safari Zone?"_

"It's like an artificial habitat made for all different kinds of pokémon. You have to pay to get in, but you go in by yourself, armed with some bait and rocks, and you can capture any pokémon you come across," I said gleefully.

"_That doesn't sound fun," _Poona commented simply. It wasn't discouraging. She just wasn't overly-excited about it like she was to everything else.

"No, it is! You can get all kinds of different pokémon there. Trust me, it's fun."

"_What else is fun?"_

"Well…there are contests. We could enter all kinds of contests. And there are museums. Malls. Theme parks."

"_What are contests? And museums? And malls? And theme parks?"_

Maybe it was a good thing we were having this chat. After I explained just about everything about human civilization and the things we used for entertainment, Poona scratched her ear.

"_I don't understand. How is that fun?"_

"See how deprived you are, Poona? We have to experience it in order for it to be fun," I said in complete certainty.

I was a little too proud of my word choice. Talking with Sophie had definitely improved my vocabulary. Sometimes I would see how many big words I could fit in one sentence. Half of them I wasn't using correctly, but my parents were kind enough to not reprimand me for it. Jacoby had taken that job for them, though his grades had always been worse than mine, so he didn't have room to talk.

"We have been imprisoned for far too long, my friend," I declared dramatically. "But soon, very soon, we will leave this place behind and journey into the unknown."

Poona paused, running her paws over her tail almost lovingly. _"I _do _want to leave this place. It's too scary here."_

"Are you talking about the weather and all of the foreign pokémon coming in?"

She nodded.

"Yeah, that's really weird. I still don't know what that's about." I remembered the terrorist attacks suddenly and frowned. How would my furret react in that kind of situation? Would we encounter anything like that?

"Poona, even if we left, we wouldn't be completely safe."

"_Why?"_

"There are mean, stupid people out there who are willing to hurt other people to get their point across," I explained. "If we left, we might even run into those people. There's no telling what would happen, but don't you think we'd be prepared if something like that happened?"

"_I guess so. As long as we'd have berries."_

I smiled and then pumped a fist victoriously into the air. "Of course we'll have berries, Poona!"

"_Yay!" _She was excited for about two seconds and then reverted to her ignorant contentment by curling into a ball in front of me and shortly falling asleep.

I watched her, wondering how she was still so naïve. She was very inquisitive and would have her questions answered no matter what the circumstances. However, she didn't understand humans as much as I thought she did and had just blindly been following me the whole time. All either of us wanted was the others' happiness, but I didn't like that I was forcing Poona into something she didn't really know that well. I had thought maybe she had gotten wiser since evolving, and she had, but she was still naïve and too happy by even bad news.

I petted her absentmindedly, trusting her words. Poona had encouraged me and reassured me I didn't have too long before I was able to become a trainer. It was only about two months before the summer came. At that time, I would earn my long-anticipated license, among other things, like my freedom.

I brought my legs up to my chest and set my chin on my knees. I wanted something spectacular, something different, something grand. It was so boring here, doing the same thing over and over and over and over—

Well, you get it. But did Poona get that? Did she truly understand why I desired to leave this place? She only wanted to go to escape from the atrocious weather. Would she really like exploring the other regions? She didn't seem like the type that could handle great distances or potentially fatal situations. I was worried for her, not for myself. I knew that I could take care of myself and trump the ass of anyone who was trying to touch mine…but would Poona be willing to defend herself? Sweet, innocent Poona, who didn't mind butting heads with wild pokémon but still had a conscience about it afterward?

Every time I battled with her, she would walk up to the wild pokémon she had beaten and lick their heads apologetically. My heart hurt every time I saw that, but instantly her attitude would refurbish with a pleasant smile and bounce when she saw I was proud of her. Did she truly feel victorious, or was she only putting on that attitude for my sake? Was it my fault that Poona was pitted against wild pokémon she might have cared for if she had gotten to know them?

Was I making her do something she didn't want to do?

She seemed willing enough to me, but I also knew that she was unbelievably happy _all the time_. It was almost unnatural. When I wasn't with her, was she crying in a corner? When I wasn't looking at her, was she wiping tears I might have seen had I been paying more attention to her? With this talk we just had, she had been encouraging me and willing me with the words to never give up. That just showed she cared for my happiness since she knew that I had just wanted to be a trainer all along.

I guessed the true question that was haunting me after this chat was did Poona really want to come with me? Was I giving her no choice? Was I imposing her with an undesired fate and imprisoning her as much as Mom and Dad were imprisoning me?

I slunk solemnly into these thoughts until Poona stirred from in front of me, stretching sluggishly.

"Can't sleep?"

She jumped, startled. Oops. She had only been moving in her sleep.

"_Wha…?"_

"Sorry, Poona. Go back to sleep."

She yawned, however, and propped herself up with her short legs. _"I don't think I can."_

"You sleep at least seven times a day. I think you can manage."

"_Yeah, but I keep thinking about stuff," _she said uneasily.

It surprised me to learn that she had been thinking as possibly as deeply as I had. So she hadn't been sleeping?

"What are you thinking about?" I pressed anxiously.

"_Berries."_

She was hungry. Why wasn't I surprised?

"I have some at home. I'll give you some when we get back," I said monotonously. I was hoping it was going to be something deep, something we could talk about. I needed to share my feelings, but I didn't know how she would handle them. I wasn't normally the one to start throwing my emotions outward and expecting someone else to listen, but I was concerned on whether or not I had been misreading Poona all along.

When she saw I was a little disappointed with her response, she rubbed her face and continued. _"But I'm also thinking about what you said earlier."_

This piqued my interest. "Like what?"

"_About how you want to capture other pokémon. Is that what you did with me? Did you capture me?" _she asked. It wasn't meant to sound dramatically serious, but that was how my mind interpreted it. This was just a normal conversation for her. She didn't mean to put me on the spot or make me feel shamefaced or uncomfortable.

But she wasn't on the guilty side of it. She was innocent. I had had her since she was a little baby sentret and she had been raised thinking everything was okay, which was maybe why she was so happy all the time. But did she have a sneaking suspicion that she was being trapped here as well? Then again, wasn't that okay? I had raised her, fed her, loved her, cared for her…Didn't that justify her stay?

Why was I paranoid about this any way? I usually tried not to worry about things and covered up anything potentially worrisome with jokes. Maybe it was this spot. Elder Li had chosen this specific spot so that I could sit here and wallow in paranoia. Something about this spot just reeked of it.

I moved a few inches over so I wasn't exactly where he had directed me, and then answered, "Well, I didn't capture you. My parents just gave you to me when you were a baby sentret. And I'm so happy they did, Poona."

"_Oh. Okay. I'm happy too!" _she twittered.

And that was that.

I wanted to expand on this and ask if she really was okay with this arrangement or if she was having trouble processing everything and also wonder aloud why of all times was her placement an issue now, when Elder Li came back up the stairs.

"I've come to check on your progress," he announced earnestly. He walked formally with his hands in his lengthy sleeves.

"I'm happy to inform you that I managed to make my feet fall asleep and get a leg cramp. I think we can both agree I'm a professional trainer now."

"I know this task might have seemed unofficial, insipid, and pointless, but by doing this you weren't supposed to be accomplishing anything. You were supposed to be doing just as you were told and sitting in the same spot, which is what you did." For some reason, it sounded like he was willing to say something deep there but was just simplifying it for me. I was a little grateful for that.

"…So are you saying I passed and I'm awesome now?"

He nodded, this time without the smile present. "You were tasked with doing nothing, but in the end you did something, didn't you?"

He was probably referring to my doubtful, paranoid thoughts and the personal chat I'd had with Poona. Huh. Was this monk therapy? Effective.

"Solely to pass the time, you had a reflection over your ways, did you not? These thoughts were achieved with the valuable time and silence I granted you," he said. "Thoughts that you wouldn't have had had you not given yourself an opportunity to think them."

I actually awarded him with a grin—an unkind one, but still. "Yep, you're right. I get it." He could stop rubbing it in now. If he said anything more about how I wouldn't have gotten anywhere without him, I would start an infamous slow clap or something.

"Don't be afraid to slow down. You are in no rush to do anything." He let this message sink in before he cleared his throat. "Very well. We must move on to the next step." It looked almost as if he was searching for something to do and had started looking down the stairs. "…One moment please. I will go and fetch your brothers. Stay here."

He walked quietly down the stairs. I wondered why he didn't just get one of his monk minions or bellsprout slaves to retrieve them.

I looked around the room, which had somehow gotten larger from the elder's exit.

"Where did that xatu go?" I asked aloud, peering toward the window.

Poona rose to her paws and stared at the window as well. _"I didn't hear him leave…"_

"Neither did I."

Frowning, I approached the window, while Poona stayed in the back of the room, searching the crevices and other possible exits.

I started tweeting and chirping what I thought was a pretty decent bird call but probably sounded more like a dying meowth. The window was actually lower than what it appeared. I staggered back a few times when it felt as if I was going to fall forward from leaning in too much.

I glimpsed through it from a safe distance, identifying trees that were shaded by the tower. Below, there was a vacant birdbath with an assortment of vases and stacks of wood that matched the construction of the building. Pretty boring view. The only thing remotely interesting was the blinding sun, and that was because it had a rare appearance nowadays.

I wondered what it would be like to be blinded by the sun and have holes for eyes when I heard Poona sit down. I was turning to see what had gotten her to be so lax when something unexpected happened.

Someone pushed me out the window.


	8. Chipped and Chipper

_8. Chipped and Chipper_

* * *

In a way, my life did flash before my eyes, but it happened in untouched, unscathed glimmers of the future, things I would never see or do.

I saw the husband I wouldn't be able to marry, standing next to the children I would never be able to bear. I saw the fights we wouldn't have and the touching, beautiful moments that we would never share. I think I even saw myself grocery shopping, buying food for the retired pokémon I would never be able to train. I saw it all in a chronological countdown, rewinding from what was supposed to be my peaceful end to the moment of now, of the great, despairing fall. And it _was_ a great fall. It was the mother of pitiless, lasting falls, and right now it felt like it was sending my stomach into my throat.

I wouldn't get to experience any of this. This future that was rightfully mine was being taken from me.

Then I realized while I was falling that maybe I wouldn't miss out on much. My husband was kind of ugly, and all of my children seemed to be picking their noses. My pokémon were grumpy old farts which had lost their bladders the moment their glorious training days had ended. Yeah, I probably wasn't missing out on much.

But still, why did some crazy monk get to decide whether or not I would have that future? Despite the fact it didn't look promising or amazing, it was still _my _future and I was the only one who could make the most of it. He didn't have a right to take that away from me.

Then again, who's to say he didn't save me some heartache? I hadn't seen Poona in any of those visions, and that was worrisome to me. But there was no way I could continue on without Poona. Initially, _that _was what told me these weren't actual visions of the future. That had been just the paranoia coming to claim my sanity before the ground would claim my life. How was that completely fair?

I flailed my arms madly, reflexively screaming while mowing through a list of obscenities in my head. I think I was screaming something along the lines of a long, drawn-out "shit," but my intelligibility and clarity on the matter was no longer intact. It had hit the ground before I did. And now I was going to die. Great. How long was this going to take?

The answer was no time at all because I wasn't dead just yet. Instead of landing in a splat, my feet touched the ground without any consequence after it felt as if gravity, accompanied by my bottomless fear, had steered me upright. Not only had I survived, but I hadn't received any injuries. I was completely undamaged. Suddenly the visions I had seen were poured sheepishly back into my skull, realizing they had made a mistake in revealing themselves to me and had returned to hide before I remembered them too strongly or clearly.

I blinked rapidly and wobbled my legs a little bit to check their substantiality. There were no breaks. No crippling weakness. My clothes—varying colors and feathery, scaly garments regularly seen as scarves, a single glove, and a billowy skirt—weren't torn or excessively wrinkly. All that remained were the questions of _why_, _what the hell just happened, _and _is throwing people out of windows one of the sick hobbies those crazy monks do whenever they're bored?_

And then, when the feeling of being alive sunk in, the feeling of being pissed off came just as quickly.

"HEY, MONKSTER! GET YOUR HAIRLESS ASS DOWN HERE SO I CAN MAKE _YOUR_ LIFE FLASH BEFORE YOUR EYES, YOU ASSHOLE!" I screamed. With having endured my loudness before, my vocal cords braved these words just as unobjectionably.

I reached one hand downward to adjust the single, lengthy light blue glove I wore on my right arm. The cuff on the top half of my arm had loosened from the fall, while everything else had remained intact. It was the only thing the fall had managed to jar besides my now uncontainable impatience.

"_I see you're faring well."_

The unknown gravelly voice didn't make me jump, but I did look everywhere so that I could glower at the owner of it. Instead of glowering I was gaping because the xatu I had seen earlier swooped down in front of me, landing on a branch. He tucked his wings by his sides and then lifted them in front of him almost as identically as Elder Li had with his sleeves. His eyes were narrowed and somewhat glassy, and then I realized he wasn't really looking at me. They were very still and focused, but they seemed to be looking _through_ me. There was something weird about this xatu…

"_Hey_! You're blind!" I realized aloud. It wasn't very courteous to point such things out—as Mom would often remind me—but that was not stopping me now. I had never seen a blind pokémon before. A blind person, maybe, but not a pokémon. Didn't xatus always stare at the sun? Is that what had blinded him?

"_It is true that I am blind__,"_ he confirmed, and shifted so that the red stalk on his green feathered head looked straighter somehow. His long feathers surrounded and concealed his talons like a skirt. _"My blindness is unrelated to the sun. It was the darkness that blinded me, and I'm paying the penalty for allowing it to."_

That was deep shit right there. Too bad I didn't know what he was talking about.

"You can read minds?"

"_Psychic pokémon have always been able to," _he said with a nod. Before I could continue in a blunder about the fall and the asshole who had pushed me, he dipped his beak downward sharply. _"You may call me Keane, Rochelle Worley. You fell quite a distance. Are you feeling fine?"_

"Yeah, I feel dandy. More chipper than a wood chipper. Life or death situations are always fun," I said sarcastically. "What the hell is going on? Did you see who flung me out the window?" I paused, realizing the insensitivity of that statement. "I mean—smell whoever—hear—You get it."

"_This is linked to your lesson,"_ he said vaguely, after he had gotten over his amusement of my stammering.

"Almost killing me. Right. The only thing I'm learning is to not stand next to a window when there's a monk in the room," I said with a snort.

"_Are you sure it was a monk?"_

I didn't exactly get a good look at anyone…That was suspicious. "Are you saying it was Poona? Or Jacoby? Or Trevor?" Jacoby and I were always competing, but he didn't want to kill me. Poona? Never. Trevor? Maybe.

"_I'm just suggesting you should consider your options and think about the possibilities. You shouldn't have been standing that close to the window," _Keane said evasively. _"Why were you standing there?"_

"Because I didn't think anyone was going to throw me through the freaking window?"

"_Is it curiosity that kills or ignorance?" _he wondered aloud, now lost in his own thoughts. If he could have, he probably would have scratched his beak to emphasize his wonder of the matter.

"Well, I'm dying from curiosity over here," I put in. If I played along, maybe the xatu would tell me who it had been. I was too far away to act on any threats I might have had, anyway.

"_But the reason you're dying from curiosity is because of your ignorance," _he commented, almost excitedly. He paused. _"Shouldn't you be running right now?"_

"_No. _I should be flying."

_"Because...?" _If he could read my mind, he already knew the answer. I didn't know why he was baiting me.

"Because I just flew, so this must be a dream."

_"I can fly. Does that mean I'm dreaming?"_

"It's different, featherbutt! You have wings! Which is the only way you could have beaten me to the bottom." I stuck my tongue out and glared. I hadn't seen him on the branch before. When did he get there? He knew who it was, but he couldn't have seen them. Why was he trying to keep me talking instead of—?

I froze.

"HEY! It was YOU! I was looking for you! I did bird calls and everything!"

"_That's what that was? I thought it was a dying meowth," _he said, so seriously that I couldn't even tell he was joking. A tiny chuckle did escape from his beak after a few seconds. I had had the same thought, but the thought of him reading my mind hadn't crossed my mind at the time.

"You better run—fly, whatever!—before I turn that birdbath of yours into a bloodbath!"

Keane dug his talons deeper into the branch. _"I never confirmed what you said was true, Rochelle…although there is something I recommend you do now."_

Ignoring him, I exclaimed, "I'm going to stuff you for this year's Thanksgiving!" and then stepped back, eager to charge.

He actually took a significant pause here before bringing his wings gravely in front of him. _"Duck."_

"Wha—" I didn't know what hit my head at that moment, but it was hard and very solid. My body felt like it dented the ground when I went down, dizzied with pain and the alarming emptiness that subsided from the assault.

Through narrowed eyes, I could see the figure of Elder Li standing over me with a wooden staff in his hands.

It must have been Elder Li who pushed me out the window. He probably wanted me dead so that he could stuff me and use me as a decoration. Pervert.

I shakily brought my left hand to the back of my head after I recovered my senses. My palm pooled with liquid, dripping onto my bracelet. The acids in my stomach bubbled horridly in response. I gulped, trying to delay the inevitable retching. Without further warning, I hurled out the muffins I had gotten this morning.

After wiping my mouth, I looked up at him, unable to detect any sympathy or care from his now defensive stance. His eyes—as dark as coal with a heat so subtle that the embers radiating from their depths were chilly—met mine, but his voice called out for another.

"Keane?"

"_She is not ready, but she did land without harm upon her feet," _he reported. Of course he was on the crazy monk's side! The blind xatu pushes people through windows; the crazy monk beats up and possibly molests children. It was clear to me that only psychos grew up in Sprout Tower.

"That _is_ progress," Elder Li admitted. "You didn't assist her with a psychic?"

"_Negative."_

"Good. Then she is learning on her own."

"G-get away from me!" I was shamefully aware of the tears bottling in my eyes and the fact they were starting to project with the shakiness of my voice.

I _hated_ crying. I never did it. Ever. The only time I had ever really done it for real—other than for manipulation and prank purposes—in front of anyone had been Henrietta and Sophie when they were leaving. I didn't cry as much as Henrietta did, and I had never seen Sophie cry except get a little sad when I was saying goodbye to her. The fact that I was crying in front of this man who I now undeniably hated for trying to kill me twice sickened me enough to want to throw up again, this time on _him_.

Elder Li appraised me regretfully. "My dear, I do apologize for putting you in this predicament, but this is the only way."

He was talking about killing me.

I didn't get a chance to panic over this because he said firmly, "You must fight for yourself now. Fight back." He paused, and I realized he was giving me a chance to run or do _something_.

Unsteadily, I rose. My pulse was pounding obnoxiously in my ears. It was the adrenaline, however, that reinforced me. As soon as I was on my feet, Elder Li struck his spear forward. I was forced to dodge or suffer another hit. I managed to evade but was slashed by the wind of this jab. It had been close. Too close.

With my breathing quickening and nearing hyperventilation, I whirled and ran, searching for something I could use to fight back. I was hopeful for anything at this point. I had never begged this much internally, but I was doing it now. The tears were close to falling, and somehow they were thicker than my blood, draining slower than the scarlet liquid, which I could feel slithering through my hair.

_I need a weapon! Something! Please! Please! Anyone! God, why am I talking to myself?! If I survive, I am going to get a social life!_

I didn't realize it, but after a while, I was pleading out loud to no one. Who was there to hear me? Was anyone outside that could help me? Surely I couldn't ask the monks or they'd help their sick master. I was completely and utterly alone.

Keane sat on his branch, watching (or, well, _listening)_ as I helplessly dashed from the insane older monk, who seemed to be gaining on me.

I didn't look back even once. I did start screaming for Jacoby and Trevor, however, hoping they could hear me from where they were. Were they getting attacked too? Were they already dead? Why did _I _have to die? Why, why, why, why—

_Thump. _Elder Li bashed the staff into my legs, and I rammed into the ground. The first thing I registered upon the abrasive landing was that I was crying hysterically, my sense gone. The bleeding had worsened. It had already been dripping heavily down my head, but now my legs had plenty of scratches after I collapsed on top of some very sharp rocks. I felt weak and bruised and awful.

Elder Li took no sympathy on me. He couldn't stab me with his wooden staff in one swing, but he could probably damage me enough to kill. That's what he intended to do, it seemed, when I spun around to face him and saw him with the wooden staff posed above his shoulders, readying to plunge.

For once, I was not cursing. I was crying what seemed irrevocably, too flustered and hurt to muster any sort of obscenities or last-minute threats. I couldn't fight back. I wasn't strong enough. My body had failed me, despite having taken so many martial arts classes. Why didn't I have the courage? Why didn't I have the strength? Where was the toughness and unbreakable humor that I was known for?

Gone. All gone. Just like I was about to be.

I stared up into Elder Li's black eyes. Soulless. That's what they were. I was giving him my soul by staring so forcefully into them. If this was the way it was going to be, _fine_. I would at least leave him with one eternal look. I hoped it would haunt his dreams and manifest them to nightmares. I hoped he would think about this look and shudder. I hoped this look would be the first thing to appear on his face when karma decided to do him in for me. I hoped he would be faced with this look every time he closed his eyes. I deserved that retribution.

However, as he took a plummeting swing with the staff, I rolled over, noting how dramatic I was before I jammed a foot into his side. My legs were strong, so I was unsurprised when he nearly fell over and had to adjust his footing.

I swung my whole body into the next kick, believing I would knock him over for sure. His old bones proved to be steel, however, when he merely trembled from the hit, maintaining his balance.

"Damn you and your grandchildren!" I screeched, sending a punch this time that dug into his shoulder. When I heard a crack, I smiled triumphantly, but didn't have time to continue my onslaught.

If he was in pain, he didn't show it. He rolled over on the ground to avoid one of my incoming kicks and then snatched the wooden staff. I jumped as he attempted to swing it beneath my feet and darted forward to try to plant a foot in his face. He snatched my foot and forcefully flipped me.

When I was completely on the ground, I wondered where my allies were. Had Poona seen or heard any of this? Had Elder Li restrained her before coming down to kill me? Had he killed Jacoby and Trevor? At these thoughts, I was trembling, but I didn't allow that to deteriorate me.

When he bashed the wooden staff into my shoulder, however, I struggled underneath its pinion. I was trapped. Whenever I squirmed, the staff dug deeper, and I could feel my shoulder dislocating. This worried and pained me, so I stopped. Elder Li lessened the force when he saw I wasn't struggling as much.

"Why are you doing this?" I demanded. The staff was being applied with enough force to break skin. I gritted my teeth. "I was right, wasn't I? You're just a sick old man! Sick, perverted, nasty—"

"Are you giving up already?" he asked, ignoring my comments.

"You wrinkly old sand bag! I'll grind you into the dust that you practically are!"

"This isn't saving you," he said, brushing off my aimless insults. When he lifted the staff again, I tried to roll away or move, but he pinned me in place again. This time, I felt my shoulder dislocate.

_That_ scream should have been enough to attract at least _some_ attention. I was bleeding, bruised, and now my shoulder was dislocated.

Why wasn't anyone responding? Had he killed everyone so he could kill me without interruption? Was no one coming to my rescue because they thought it was good riddance?

Why was Keane not doing anything? Obviously he was Elder Li's pokémon. Otherwise the xatu would have followed through with the ideals of his peaceful species and prevented this murder from happening. Then again, he was blind. He could have also been blinded from actual ethics and how much of a monster his owner actually was.

"You need to try harder," he urged. At this point he almost sounded angry.

Before I could question what he meant by that and possibly throw more insults and kicks in his direction, I woke up.


	9. Anxious Heart

_9. Anxious Heart_

* * *

I woke up, tear-stained and shaken, with Poona licking my face comfortingly. I was laying on one of the mats Elder Li forced us to meditate on earlier. Next to me, Trevor and Jacoby were on their own mats. They were staring at me with wide-eyed, fearful, and strangely vigilant faces. Poona was watching me when she saw I had finally woken up, analyzing me out of concern and worry.

The first thing that completely registered was there was a faint tingling in my left shoulder, which had been the dislocated one. I hurriedly grabbed the back of my head, discovering that the blood had either completely desiccated or ceased to exist. In any case, I wasn't bleeding.

I looked around frantically and saw Keane the xatu perched on the window, looking in my direction but unsettlingly right through me with his unseeing eyes. Directly in front of us on his own mat was Elder Li. He was watching me without any reaction, his forehead crumpled with concentration.

Before I even knew what I was doing, I lunged at him. Trevor gasped, while Jacoby jumped up. Elder Li grabbed my fist before it made contact with his face. I was about to send the other one at his cheek when Jacoby wrapped his arms over mine, coming to the dangerous man's rescue.

"Let go! He tried killing me! The bastard tried killing me!" I yelled frantically. They were defending a murderer. Didn't they know that? Why weren't they listening to their sister over this mad man?

"Relax! Stop!" Jacoby begged as I started kicking him backwards, aiming very lowly on his body.

When Poona latched onto one leg and Trevor did the other, I was effectively tamed for the moment. They pinned me to the mat before I could violently run forward again.

"_You were crying and screaming an awful lot," _Poona said frightfully. She rubbed her paw on my leg. Now _she_ was petting _me._

"We were dreaming, Chelle. We were all dreaming," Jacoby said hurriedly, before I could fly into another panic.

"It…That was real!" I cried stubbornly. I scowled at Elder Li. He had the gall to stare back, completely unfazed. "You tried killing me! You threw me out the window! Poona, you saw, didn't you? _You saw me fly out the window!"_

This was one of the first times that she winced back, scared of _me_. The reaction pinched me in the heart, but not enough to get me to calm down. _"I-I did see it…and it scared me so much I woke up."_

"…Huh…?"

"We all fell asleep, Chelle. We had the same dream. We fell asleep while we were on the mats," Jacoby tried explaining. I was having none of it.

"That…that doesn't make any sense! How the hell? What kind of voodoo do you monks do?" I screamed, whirling back to Elder Li. "You horrible bastard—"

"Stop!" Trevor screamed suddenly. "I don't want to hear this! Just stop! Please!" I was too blinded by my rage for Elder Li to pay my trembling, emotional little brother any mind. He seemed to know I didn't care because he directed a fleeting scowl at me before dropping it to the floor.

"Your brothers woke up before you did," Elder Li finally said, quietly. "I know this is quite the quandary for you, but it's true. All of you were induced into a deep sleep state in order to begin your training. Sprout Tower is applicable to many impossibilities, including dream-sharing, and Keane's abilities aided such a process. You were all immersed within the same dream universe, which was enacted to look and feel very realistic for the best training environment."

"Training environment?! Do you forget that you tried to freaking _kill_ me?" I screeched.

"I had not intended to stultify or harm you. It wasn't real; therefore, you sustained no injuries."

"That doesn't matter! That was traumatizing!"

"_It was a necessary repercussion, regardless of your perspective. We were already very near to waking you, but__ Poona couldn't bear to hear your suffering and woke you up from your slumber," _Keane remarked from his placement at the window.

I gripped Poona protectively. She licked my hand in response. She was the only one I could trust. "I'd hardly call killing necessary! Did you even attack Jacoby and Trevor like you did me?"

"No, they required different training," he replied thoughtfully.

"Why? Because they're boys?" _Sexist grandpa._

Elder Li lowered his eyes gravely, unexplainably mute. "…Rochelle, there are many answers I cannot provide without proper consent."

Consent? Like from my parents? What did that mean? Trevor and Poona looked as confused as I did, but Jacoby seemed to recognize what Elder Li was saying enough to understand the subject. He fixed his eyes on me silently. I gave him a dirty look until I saw Elder Li reaching toward me from the corner of my eye.

I jumped back, knocking Poona and Trevor off of me from the force of the upheaval. "If you touch me one more time, there will be more than just hair missing from your head!" He probably wouldn't even have a head left if he touched me.

Jacoby set his eyes on me again. "Chelle, Elder Li isn't going to hurt you. So sit down and calm down."

"You weren't even there to see!" I said with a snort. "You were off beating up baby pokémon."

He didn't stiffen like I'd been expecting him to, but he did ignore me and try to wrestle me to the ground. To me, this restraint was a threat. He was aiming to be playful, but he was just being creepy.

"Just chill, Chelle. You're overreacting."

"No!" I shoved him off of me and gave all of them the meanest look I could manage. The only one it didn't really affect was Keane, but that was excusable. I would have to fulminate him later to enforce the intimidation my looks didn't and couldn't have on him. "You guys are being weird, and that's saying something because we can all agree I'm the weirdest one here!"

As if to prove my point, I pinned my thumb to the tip of my nose and enlarged my nostrils by pulling it upward. Then I stuck out my tongue and did what could only be called a bizarre tribal call. Trevor slapped his palm to his forehead, while Jacoby attempted to lunge in order to detain his obstreperous sister. The only ones unaffected were Elder Li, Keane, and Poona, who either didn't care for my antics or—in Poona's case—were used to them. But then I did do something they didn't expect.

I ran away.

As soon as I bolted down the stairs, however, I heard Jacoby and Poona scrambling to keep up.

"Chelle! Wait! You can't just run!"

"_Chelly!"_

I slowed if only to allow Poona to keep up. She was speedier than Jacoby, so I didn't have to reduce my speed by too much. As soon as she was leveled with my pace, I resumed the getaway, dashing past several sages who had already familiarized themselves with the conflict.

Jacoby was gaining on us, but it was Chewy who was making the real progress. It sounded like he was aiming for Poona, but Poona proved to be predatorily dominant with her speed. Her tail boosted her rather than slowed.

Poona and I ran all the way home with Jacoby and Chewy pursuing us as if we had stolen and hidden their clothes. I made a note to do that to Jacoby later when all was safe and sorry.

I burst through the front door, hitting Dad in the front with a sharp _oof_. Mom stood to the side, puzzled, as we ran by.

"Chelle? Why are you—"

"Elder Li brainwashed Jacoby, and they're trying to kill me!" I said hurriedly, dashing through the hallway into my room.

When Poona and I were safely secure, I slammed the door shut and locked it. Then I stepped back smugly and waited.

Jacoby halted and panted violently in front of the door. Chewy clawed at the door, but soon Mom reproved him.

"Chelle, open the door!" Jacoby ordered, jostling the knob impatiently.

"What's the password?" I called jeeringly.

There was a pause, as if he was giving this some collective thought. "…Muffins?"

"Delicious, but wrong! You're banished. You may redeem yourself by getting Poona some berries." She cheered at my feet, pulling herself upright after rolling all over the floor in jittery excitement.

It didn't sound like he protested, but there wasn't a noise of agreement either. The tension was mitigated by the sudden lack of chatter. The silence unsettled me. I placed my ear gently against the door. There was disturbingly unknown shuffling. Mom had been close at one point, but now her voice sounded far.

"Mom's getting the keys, Chelle…She's coming to the door…Are you just going to let her win like that?" The knob trembled as Jacoby spoke. He had started using his ghost-story-telling voice. Like that was going to work.

I smirked. They were not going to get me with that one. I had stolen all of the keys long ago and hidden them within my drawers. Unless they didn't mind having to replace the door, they wouldn't get in here so easily.

"It'll be hard to get in if she doesn't actually have any keys. Unless you're saying you have some extras?"

There wasn't any noise now. They realized they had been beaten. I did a little happy dance, which Poona gleefully joined. Soon, however, Mom's irascible voice penetrated the door.

"ROCHELLE SHILO WORLEY!" Full name at full volume. Not good. "You open this door right now, or I'll…I'll…I'll ground you!"

I looked around my room. "…Okay, cool."

"No, I mean—_Ugh_!" It seemed as if she had thrown her hands up in the air. "Chelle, come out. We need to talk. Tell me what happened at the tower."

"About how my freaky 'teacher' tried to kill me? Not much else to say," I reported.

"Elder Li was only trying to train us," I heard Jacoby say.

"Don't defend him! You might as well shave your head, you traitor!" I yelled. He had probably already received his initiation into monkhood while I was still immersed within the dream world.

"Chelle, surely you can't stay there forever. You're going to get hungry," Mom pointed out.

"Yeah, but I got that covered. Poona and I will take turns eating each other's limbs until one of us is eaten completely."

Poona gave me a horrified expression and skittered to the door, clawing at it desperately. _"Help! I don't want to die!"_

I half-wondered if I could drag this joke out and set her into an all-out panic, but I decided to choose her trust over her expense for once. "Poona, I'm joking! I'd never kill you, you silly girl! Besides, I have muffins." After mentioning them, I yanked one out of my pocket and bit into it carnivorously.

She relaxed with immediate relief, snatched a muffin from my hands, and curled up on my bed. Evolving never changed how capricious she was.

There came a knock from the door next—a very gentle one. I knew this was Dad. Mom would have been slamming her head against the door in frustration at this point, while Jacoby wouldn't have knocked but instead tried breaking the knob. Trevor stayed out of it entirely, which was expected.

"Honey, could you open up? I want to see if you're okay," Dad said carefully, purposely keeping "we" out of the sentence.

"Nope. No-can-do. Try again later," I said with some boredom, inspecting my nails uncaringly.

"Elder Li really meant no harm. He's here to speak with you."

That didn't persuade me to open the door. It made me want to build a barricade.

"…You want me to die." They'd probably throw a party in my absence. Traitors.

"No, of cou—"

"You want me to get killed and die. But even if you'd let me die, I'd still find a way to crash my own funeral and maybe come back from the dead, you know. You would only be zombifying me! Ha!"

"We're not trying to get you killed, Rochelle! We're trying to protect you!" It was Mom now.

"...By killing me?"

"_NO_! Where do you get these ridiculous ideas from?"

"Ask Elder Li and his accomplices. Those monks are hiding a plot to murder!"

"No they are not! You need to learn to be more respectful! After this ordeal is over, Rochelle Worley, you are going to be in so much more trouble than you are right now—"

"So this is what trouble looks like."

"CHEWY, BREAK DOWN THE DOOR!" I didn't think I'd ever heard my mother roar until that moment. She did sneak an apology to Elder Li shortly afterward, but her voice was super-effective on my confidence. The critical hit exposed my inner business-woman as I jumped to my feet.

"HOLD IT! We can talk this out! Let's be civilized citizens here! There are witnesses you know! We could do some paperwork or something!"

I was well aware that my words weren't making my situation any easier, yet I couldn't stop. If I didn't calm my mother down soon, Elder Li would be the least of my worries. I tapped my chin, pondering about whether I _should_ make a contract for my behavior. That would have made everything official, and there were several negotiation plans I had in mind. I'd get one of my teachers to write it up for me. They were eager enough for me to leave anyway.

"So whaddy—AH!"

I jumped back against the wall suddenly, staring down at my arm in alarm. Poona was just as surprised by my tone and hopped to her feet.

"_What, Chelly? What happened?"_

"Chelle, what's going on?" Dad chimed in worriedly. The knob wobbled.

I wasn't sure if Elder Li was standing directly outside, but I didn't want to give anything away. I swallowed nervously and tried to speak through the swelling that had started in my throat from the anxiety I had no control over anymore.

"E-everything's f-fine. I just ch-choked on a muffin…" I added a short cough to polish the lie.

"Rochelle." It was Elder Li. "I know what's happening. If you'll let me in, I can help you."

"I…I…" I tried to come up with some threat, but my words were trapped in the back of my throat, where they were being suffocated from their lack of release. For once, I didn't say anything. But I was thinking of opening the door now.

Because I was staring at the thick tufts of gray fur that had suddenly appeared on my arms and were still spreading down them.


	10. Smooth Criminal

_10. Smooth Criminal_

* * *

This was…This was…

What was this? It had to be bad, right? I couldn't tell. Did I spontaneously age? No one mentioned this about puberty. Even Poona, who took new things in a confusing stride, was bewildered, not even daring to sniff the tufts. It was a part of Poona's law that nothing was real unless she sniffed it. Therefore, she was probably declaring this appearance to be a part of her imagination as much as I was right now.

On my left arm, the substance was highly visible, while the single blue glove extending up my right arm concealed it nearly perfectly. I was thinking of grabbing another glove to put on my left arm, but instead I wiggled my arms in a panic and tried yanking the substance out. This became increasingly difficult when my hands were suddenly covered by the substance, in addition to the amount that had concealed my arms. Poona could only stare with a gape.

"AHHH! AHHAHHAHH—" My screaming attracted more banging from the door and worried cries, mainly from my parents.

"Chelle, come out _right now_!" Dad ordered. Mom was always the one to take the initiative because Dad never wanted to be the bad guy. Now that it sounded like I was in mortal danger, his panic had placed him in the lead, making Mom act as the cheerleader instead.

"Only if…" I cleared my throat so that I could list my demands properly. "Only if we use Elder Li's mustache as a feather duster!" That loosely translated to: that bastard better not be at the door when I open it.

"Chelle, you are being ridiculous and rude!" Mom cut in sharply. "Come out right now! Elder Li is in the living room! You are safe!" Well at least she had understood what I was trying to say.

After threatening to rip Elder Li's mustache off using twenty different methods (just to really shoot it in the hoop that I didn't want him to be there, in case he was listening), I emerged from my room using Poona as my shield. My parents were standing by my door, but Jacoby, Trevor, and Elder Li had resigned themselves to the living room, as they had said.

With my back pressed against the wall, I slid to the living room, still holding Poona protectively in front of me. She treated it as a ride and stilled cooperatively, solidifying to be the barrier I was imagining her to be. Mom scowled at me but was mutedly restrained by Dad's hand on her shoulder. That hand had saved me from too much, I knew.

I thought Elder Li would have been expectantly waiting for me while my parents had been fishing me out of my room, but he had been sitting on the couch instead, sipping on some warm tea and socializing with Jacoby and Trevor. He didn't even notice when I walked into the room. Keane did though.

"_You're looking well, Rochelle," _he greeted, and almost seemed to be smiling with his beak.

The blind bird had a sense of humor. Too bad I wasn't laughing.

"You're probably too blind to see that that joke wasn't funny."

This didn't stop him from chuckling a bit. _"You're right. This is no time for comedy. I apologize."_

I turned slowly to Elder Li, who was just now noticing I walked into the room.

I held up my arms, which exhibited the furry substance. Mom had been glaring me down earlier, but she hadn't noticed it until I pointed it out. She gasped when she saw, while the rest of my family became bug-eyed and speechless. Dad and Trevor gaped, and Jacoby looked as if he was torn from declaring it to be cool or gasping. Chewy appeared as if he wanted to approach me (probably because of Poona) but remained reserved.

I faced Elder Li, my arms still raised. "This is your fault. Fix it."

Elder Li smiled, amused. "I'm sorry, but I did not bring my shears with me. A razor would probably be just as effective, however."

Why was everyone making a joke now of all times? I was one step away from having a meltdown, and they all persisted in ignoring this dire situation. This had to be some fatal disease in which you grew fur all over you until you were completely covered. And then it started growing inside of you and swelled until you _suffocated_.

I wasn't going to let that happen since suffocation was another thing I feared. Ever since I had choked on a small orange I had tried eating whole for some stupid bet, I feared I would die from some unfortunate slip-up. I still ate truck-sized platters of food, but I chewed hard enough to break my teeth.

I was hoping I could do something threatening with the fur, maybe by reaching forward and tickling him to death or something, but every time I glanced at it I became a little more freaked out.

"The only reason you'd need to cut these off is to get you some hair. Now help me like you said you would before I infect you with this fluff."

Elder Li examined my arms minimally and then shrugged. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do."

"You are a liar! What are you even doing here if you can't help me out?" I screamed. I wasn't feeling pristine. I was holding a massive grudge over Elder Li's head as if it were his long lost hair.

"Rochelle, you will treat him with respect! He is here for your benefit!" Mom ordered fiercely. Her tone also meant I was grounded later. I was fine with that, as long as we solved the issue currently known as my arms—although you couldn't even _see_ my arms now with how much fluff was covering them.

"No, Leandra, she has every reason to be angry." Elder Li concealed his hands within his sleeves. Keane followed his example. They were scarily synchronized despite Keane lacking the sight to see that. "But, truly, the solution begins with you, Rochelle."

"…So this is my fault? Is it also _my_ fault that you tried to kill me?"

"I would like to remind you that that scenario occurred while we were engaged in a dream setting," Elder Li said sharply, probably to ease my parents. Jacoby and Trevor still were convinced he was a saint. I could picture Trevor recording his godly tales while Jacoby negotiated with a publisher for the rights to an Elder Li bible. "Therefore, you didn't receive any physical ailments or injuries. I am not giving you the blame, by any means. I am saying that you have the power to repair the situation."

"You _traumatized_ me."

"Perhaps, but the price that was paid was worth the product."

"What? _Insanity_?"

"No. Responsibility." The statement was critical, and yet I didn't understand what he meant. He finished his tea and then met my gaze softly. "Rochelle, may I ask you a question?"

"_Sure_, since I'm turning into a fur ball as we speak." I wondered if I could use this stuff to plug my ears, at least so I could ignore whatever he tried to say. If he wasn't going to help me, I wasn't going to listen.

"Does the world seem peaceful to you?"

"It won't be if you don't stop this stuff from spreading."

"Do you believe, then, that the world is peaceful?"

My automatic response would have been 'yes,' but something told me he was expecting a negative answer. "…No."

"Why?"

"…Because…"

"Because?" he prompted.

"…Just because."

"The world is not peaceful because it cannot ever be equal. No one can ever be truly satisfied. We are always craving something more, whether it is power, possessions, or freedom. We are never satisfied with what we have, who we are, or what we have acquired. People seek ways to satisfy any emptiness and take on ambitions they have the will to power but no power to accomplish. And those who do have the power use it corruptively to enforce their beliefs and fulfill their desires without any regard to anyone else's."

He paused, waiting for a response. I made kricketune sounds to fill the silence. He directed a glance at my parents. Mom had sunken from her reprimanding mood and had taken Dad's arms around her. It almost looked like he was holding her up.

"…This is not necessarily my place to explain. Would you like me to leave?" Was he still talking to me? If so, then yes. Go away.

"No, we'd like you to be here," Mom answered quietly. She checked my expression guiltily.

I stared at her suspiciously. I'd heard of making deals with the devil, but was it possible that making deals with monks were the same thing? This was really shady…

"What's going on?"

Mom frowned and released herself from Dad's arms. "…Rochelle, do you know where you were born?"

Well that was an easy question. Why did she make it sound as if it had a hard answer? "Here. Duh."

"No. You were born in New Bark Town, just like Jacoby." She glanced at him as she was speaking.

Jacoby nodded in affirmation. "Yeah. I remember when we first moved."

"After Rochelle had been born, we were approached by Elder Li and Keane." She made eye contact with them, as if the connection was giving her strength to continue talking. "Although Keane was blind, we still trusted his senses. He used to be able to see into the future and past, but now he could only sense it. He could sense something from you, Rochelle. He said you were cursed. We didn't believe them immediately…but Keane's foresight was proof enough."

The word gave me goosebumps, which only seemed to make the fur spread faster. I held my arms away from me, as if that would keep the fur away.

"Cursed?"

"Yes." This time it was Elder Li. He glanced toward Mom, who nodded her permission for him to continue. "Keane had been traveling for quite some time after I had released him and given him his freedom. I had expected him back for some visits here in Violet City, but it was a long time before he came back. When he returned, he was blind and urgently talking about how he could feel a strange presence from New Bark Town.

"We left Violet City in due time to announce to your family that we felt as if you were cursed. Since Keane no longer had the gift of seeing into the future and the past, we had to rely on his keen foresight instead. We asked your family to move here so that we could watch over you and check your progress.

"Our observations didn't offer us a lot of feedback. But Keane did manage to predict something with his sixth sense: you're turning into a pokémon."

I blinked. That explained the fur. Everything else? Not so much.

"…I'm turning into a pokémon?"

"Yes. We don't know if it's permanent, we don't know why it's occurring, we don't know what will happen. But there is none wiser about the culture of pokémon than the monks here in Sprout Tower," Elder Li added, as a horrible way to soothe me.

Genetically speaking, this shouldn't have been possible. Of course, the dream sequence that I had experienced and shared with Elder Li and my brothers not too long ago should not have been possible either. Was this rare phenomenon possible then? How did they know about this?

My heart sped up a little—with it, my breathing. What if the monks had been the ones to inflict this upon me?

"_We were not the cause of this curse, if that's what you believe," _Keane inputted. _"Stranger things have happened, I assure you. While this is very farfetched, we believe this is true based on your growth. Pokemon grow more rapidly than humans do, and as a human you have flourished in an almost unnatural way, reaching incredible height for your age. Your agility is impeccable, and your adaptability is greater than that of a human. Your fears and discomforts are magnified in such a way as to harm your body should you encounter them. You have the same instinctive and rebellious nature as that of a wild pokémon. Lastly, that fur upon your arms should indicate that we were right all along."_

I stared at my arms as he mentioned them. The more I did, the more terror bulled up inside me.

"So this is what we believe you must do, Rochelle: you must appease the pokémon world."

"…And how does that work?" The words left my mouth emptily. I was having a hard time processing all of this. I had a lot of questions that I was forcing back, like holding back burps until it would inevitably explode into one giant belch.

I guess he finally realized he was talking to a thirteen-year-old because he started using a tone that only people would use for toddlers. Jerk. "This means in order to stay human, you must treat pokémon as your equals."

"How does that help me?" I shot back loudly. Trevor jumped from the volume of my voice and glared at me crossly. I ignored him.

"It might not."

"What?!"

"What they're trying to say is they have no clue how to help you," Jacoby said flatly.

"What?!"

"At this point, we can only guess," Elder Li acceded. "We believe this would generate the best response, however. After all, if you're turning into a pokémon, this would mean they would be your equals regardless."

I opened my mouth to say something inappropriate, mocking, or all of the above, when the fur showed up in my peripheral vision.

"A-all right, so tell me what I need to do," I said, almost painfully. This guy had tried murdering me in my sleep—_literally—_and now I needed his help. Not even karma was on my side.

"You cannot be a trainer."

"WHAT?!" That had pulled the trigger for me. I had pegged my whole life on becoming a trainer. I had kept up my grades manageably, but they weren't promising enough for anything else. I didn't want a different career. I wanted to be a trainer, damn it!

"There is a good reason for this," he reassured. "To regard pokémon as equals, you cannot use pokéballs."

"Why not?!"

"You have to regard them as equals," Trevor inputted, loyally sticking to the elder's word choice like the good little minion he was. Note to self: punch Trevor later.

"WHY?!"

"We're not entirely sure, but we fear it has something to do with the imbalance that has been occurring within the environment."

"So that's my fault? Why am _I_ getting punished for that?"

"_You must recognize that this doesn't mean that it's your fault," _Keane said sharply. _"You are not to blame here, Rochelle. You have received an unjust punishment, but that doesn't mean it was your fault. It wasn't. Everyone is to blame here."_

In _what_? I stared at them harshly, lacking the cooperation I had dredged from the deepest corners of my mind. Their answers were vague. Jacoby was right. They didn't know anything.

"There has been a lot of…conflict, lately," Elder Li decided upon, his eyebrows furrowing. "This conflict has manifested from hundreds and hundreds of years of no solutions. There were attempts to solve these issues, notably through the invention of the pokéball, but these contraptions only worsened the situation."

"What situation?" I replied flatly.

"That is a tale for a later time. For now, we must act to remove this from you," Elder Li said calmly, bringing my arms to his face. Couldn't we just cut it off?

"_Cutting it would only cause it to grow. We can't resolve anything through irritation," _Keane inputted. I begged to differ. I solved practically everything through irritation.

Jacoby was right. They had no idea what to do. Elder Li was examining my arms just to stall for time it seemed. Did he _want _me to turn into a pokémon? Or was he waiting for me to obtain a massive solution to the problem before time ran out?

I didn't figure out a solution, but I did figure out how to get one.

"I need to call Sophie," I declared, tearing my arms away from Elder Li's gaze and scurrying in the direction of my room. Mom, however, blocked my pathway.

"You can call her later, Chelle. I know this is difficult for you to learn, but Elder Li traveled here to speak with you and help you, and—"

"Sophie can help! She knows!"

"Sophie's smart, Chelle, but she isn't going to know what's happening with you," Jacoby said discouragingly. I decided he wasn't my brother anymore.

None of them seemed to understand what I was getting at. Sophie was smart, yes, but she knew things which transcended normalcy. Upon first complaining of my unexplainable pokémon-speaking dilemma, Sophie had suggested that I was a pokémon. At the time, Henrietta and I had laughed in utter bafflement. But now…

I didn't even bother to explain myself to them. Keane, who had probably scoped my mind, decided to help me out by telepathically relaying an explanation, while I escaped to my room.

I snatched my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed Sophie's number without even looking at the keypad. Poona, who had followed me, sat beside me patiently, playing with her tail. Out of everyone in the house, she had had the least reaction. She was bothered by the presence of the fur, but she wasn't extremely disturbed by it. She still managed to take everything in stride. Was she hiding her worries? What was on my furret's mind?

_Probably berries…_

Several tries later, my phone had managed to destroy itself on the pavement outside my window. Sophie's voicemail was nonexistent it seemed. The number remained unrecognized by my phone, claiming the owner had forfeited the number. Don't tell me Sophie had abandoned me as well.

I furiously slammed the window shut.

"Poona, I don't know what's going on anymore," I mumbled, massaging my face tiredly and then pulling my arms away after the fur brushed my cheeks. "I haven't heard from Sophie in forever, and I _need to talk to her_. _Look at this!_" I held up my arms to confirm my own sanity.

"_Well you don't _need_ to talk to her,_" Poona said after a pause, tearing her eyes away from the fur.

"_Hey!_ I did not raise you to be a smartass!" I cried accusingly, thrusting a furry finger in her direction. "I raised you to be… Damn, you should be well beyond 'smartass' at this point."

"_I'm sorry. I'm not mean," _she promised. _"I miss her, too. She was…um…well, she wasn't nice. But she was almost nice."_

I wanted to pay my pokémon some more compliments about my friend, but I would have time to do that later. Whatever was happening to me right now, there were probably two people in the entire world who could help me: Elder Li and Sophie. Since Elder Li was a psychopath I desperately wanted to avoid, I would take Sophie any day, especially since I missed her. There were only two people who had the power to alter her number in any way: Sophie or her mother.

"Okay, Poona. Here's the deal. I don't want to see my family right now. I don't want to see the monks. The only person I want to see right now is Sophie."

"_What about me?"_

"You're a pokémon, not a person. But duh, I want to see you."

"_Oh. Right."_

"So here's what we're going to do. Sophie probably has an idea of what's happening to me. We're going to go to her house, talk to her mother, see if she has a new number, call her, get some answers, and be cured in time for lunch. Any questions?"

"_We're not running low on berries, are we?"_

"I just added something to our agenda: get you on a diet. Move out!"

I moved toward the window, gripping the bottom solidly.

"Chelle, you know, there is something called a door."

The unexpectedness of the voice made me twitch. "And you know there is something called knocking, right?" I turned to level a complete glare at my older brother, who stood shamelessly in the doorway with his raticate.

Poona ended the stare-down by pouncing on Chewy with a cry of, _"Whee!"_ After relinquishing his amusement, Jacoby probed my face, looking doubtful. Was this the only reaction I'd experience with him? Had his time away soured him with disbelief, which had taken months to fully contaminate him?

"I can't believe you'd just leave, even after hearing all of that. You saw Mom. She's ripped to shreds over this." Jacoby looked as if he was torn between a pout and a glare. The conjoined expressions gave birth to unusual hostility. "Sometimes I just think you can be so selfish."

Oh no. He wasn't going there. "Don't try to guilt me outta this, Jiminy Kricketune. You aren't my conscience. Right now, you're barely my older brother. You're more like an older sister now, you stupid sap," I shot back tersely, putting on my best glare.

He snorted. "Insulting me. Real mature."

"…Moronic wuss."

"Ungrateful turd."

"Stupid idiot."

"Brainless slowpoke."

"Fatty thighs."

"Yeah right! If that was anyone, it'd be you!"

"Says the person who couldn't even catch me or Poona."

He breathed sharply and directed his gaze to where Poona and Chewy were now civilly observing us and whispering their comments back and forth to one another. "How can you think Sophie will know?"

"She called me a pokémon once before."

"So? I called you an idiot once. Don't I get some kind of medal for being right?"

"You're the idiot here for following bald men. They don't know how to stop this. Sophie might. She's pretty freaking smart."

"So you were going to call her and she was going to supply you with all the answers? It never works out that easily," Jacoby pointed out.

"You're not the one with fur on your arms. You don't get it. So shut up," I snapped. Right now, I needed solace from a friend, not discouragement from a domineering older brother. "You're not helping. You're just annoying me. Go away, Jacoby."

"I can't. You know I'm worried about you, too," he snapped back. "We all are. Don't think you're alone here."

"Then stop making me feel like shit for wanting to be alone!"

"We don't know what could happen to you. Anything could happen at this point. We're afraid of leaving you alone, and you are, too. Otherwise you wouldn't still have Poona." Poona lifted her head at the honorable mention, staring at me anxiously.

"I would still have Poona anyway," I retorted. I turned once more toward the window, heaving it upward. Poona leapt reluctantly away from Chewy after whispering a feeble goodbye and hopped onto my bed to be closer to me.

"If you go, I'm going."

"You're killing my mojo," I argued, sticking one leg through. "And no way. You're just going to tattle to Mom and Dad like the good little growlithe you are."

"I will if you don't let me go with you. And do you really want to go out with fur all over your arms? It's not exactly subtle."

He was playing dirty, but I knew at this point he couldn't do any sort of damage. It's not like I was running away…yet. "The amount of brain matter you have is the same as how much I care about what you do—which means I don't care. At all. And people ought to think my arms are normal compared to that shag-shack you call a beard."

I jumped through the window without another word and dashed as soon as my feet met the ground. Poona followed seamlessly.

It didn't take long to pick up on the sound of Jacoby's ragged breathing and destructive steps. It was sad that the giant rat was even more graceful than his trainer. I knew that I couldn't shake Jacoby off, and honestly I didn't care anymore. As long as he hadn't tattled to Mom and Dad—there was no way he had time to do so—then I was fine with him following me. The only thing that irked me was that it was none of his business. This was my problem, not his. I didn't need any of his help. I needed Sophie's help, and I needed to consult with her alone. I would just have to push him in the mud later to relay that message.

The muddy pathway I took brought us to the northeastern end of the city—very near to the tower, in fact. Ms. Faraday still took care of her home as if it was a preservation site. There was something…off about it, however. The weather had chipped off some of the paint, and the entire structure seemed slightly unhinged, loose. The porch had received the most damage out of every side of the house since a stair had fallen in. However, even if the rain had been torturing homes for weeks, Ms. Faraday would have found a way to rescue her house from even slight destruction. This was the meticulous determination that Sophie had undoubtedly inherited from her mother.

I knocked while simultaneously ringing the doorbell. This had become a trademark alert of mine. Anyone who heard it knew to vacate the building or answer the door before it was too late.

I did this act for a few more minutes—which Jacoby had used to pant and catch his breath—and then rocked back and forth on my feet.

"What if she's not inside?" he asked, finally able to stand straight without wobbling or dizzying himself.

I puffed out my chest mightily. This plan was fool-proof. It had to be fool-proof…or else I would become a pokémon. Treat pokémon as my equals…how would that help? I pushed these thoughts away as I looked down at my arms. I really should have grabbed another one of my gloves to cover up my left arm. Ms. Faraday probably wouldn't find the appearance to be very endearing.

"Why wouldn't she be inside?"

"_It's the sunniest it's been in weeks," _Poona pointed out.

"Excellent point, Poona. So what do you suggest we do?"

"_We should go back to your house and talk to your family. I'm sure they'll help you," _she suggested cheerfully. Jacoby must have converted her when I wasn't looking. Well there was no way I was going to let him shave her.

"_All of that time would have been wasted then," _Chewy noted sourly. He was practical. I liked that.

I kicked my heels together as if I was about to charge into the door. I would be lying if I said the idea hadn't crossed my mind. "Ex_actly_, Chewy! We can't let those minutes die in vain! Their sacrifice was noble, brave. They are the _true_ heroes of time! They—"

"Don't matter. It's only been ten minutes. Mom and Dad are going to notice that we're gone. If she's not home, she's not home. We can try again later." Jacoby watched me, waiting for me to take the lead. "After you, Chelle."

I clung to the door stubbornly. "MS. FARADAY! PLEASE OPEN UP!" I grabbed the knob next, twisting it.

"Chelle, she isn't home! You're just going to bother the neighbors—"

The door opened from my grasp.

I stepped back cautiously, staring through the crack of the door. "Ms. Faraday?" I squinted.

There was nothing there. I didn't even hear the door unlock.

"_It was already unlocked," _Chewy stated observationally.

"Was it really?" Jacoby stared at me skeptically. "You didn't open it, did you?"

"I turned the knob, so I guess it was unlocked." I continued staring at the door without blinking.

"…Why do you look so worried?"

I didn't answer him. Ms. Faraday would never leave the door unlocked, even if she was expecting company—even if she thought she was perfectly safe.

"Ms. Faraday?" I gently pushed the door, stepping into the hallway. Poona crept past me, sniffing the air obsessively and then cringing backward regretfully, pawing at her nose.

Jacoby didn't offer any advice or pull me back. He followed, whispering warnings about how we would have to get out of there as soon as we could since we were trespassing. I guess he forgot that I used to do this all the time.

After we were completely in the house, Chewy and Poona twitched from their heads to their tails with total disgust.

"_It smells nasty in here!"_

"_Grossness…"_

I sniffed the air hastily, noting only its mustiness. "I don't think—OH DEAR GOD!" I coughed greatly and hurriedly covered my nose. The smell was like a mixture of feces, vomit, and rotten food. Completely fowl. If I inhaled anymore I would have barfed.

Jacoby sniffed the air carefully, peering around the neat hallway. "I don't smell anything."

"Get your nostrils unclogged then!" I exclaimed, still pinching my nose.

What the hell was going on? Where was Ms. Faraday? Why did her house smell this…horrible? This was so unlike her. She would always have a candle lit to bring a cinnamon scent to the household.

Poona followed me with her ears down, keeping away from the decorations and vases that lined the tables and walls. Apparently, the time when she had rolled into a table and knocked over a vase never truly escaped her. Mom had used a voice worse than yelling, and Poona had been mentally scarred ever since. She was now convinced vases were devilish objects which were out to get her and possibly the rest of the world. It was a conspiracy theory that still hadn't stuck to anyone else's head but hers.

After wandering through the hall, we entered the living room.

"OH DEAR GOD!" Jacoby covered his nose, holding back a wretch.

"Told you! What _is _that?"

The drawers of the dresser against the wall were thrown open savagely. As I scanned the room, I noticed anything with drawers were ajar, some on the floor. The furniture looked as if it had shifted slightly, pushed from its original location. The wallpaper was scratched in some areas.

My heart was pounding. My palms were sweaty. It was hard to swallow.

There were bloodstains on the carpet.

Ms. Faraday's room was in the right corner of the living room. The door was gaping. I went toward it slowly, noticing that the closer I was the more profound and invigorated was the smell. It was hard to breathe without wanting to gag now.

Unable to oppose, I threw up on one of the couch cushions, while Jacoby politely held my hair back. He suggested moving me to another location so that the couch would remain undamaged, but it was too late.

When I had finished, I heard a small squeak from Poona, who had fled Ms. Faraday's bedroom as fast as her paws would allow her. Chewy was the calmest one in the room as he supplied us with the answer as to why Poona was now panicking and the smell was so repulsive.

"_She's dead."_


	11. We Are One

_11. We Are One_

* * *

It turned out that vomiting and then screaming while running around in circles didn't solve a situation. Jacoby had immediately snatched the phone to alert the authorities and had been talking with them for the past five minutes, supplying them with details of our morbid discovery. Poona and I were set in a panic. Why did this have to happen to Ms. Faraday? What had happened to Sophie?

While Chewy was trying to soothe Poona enough to sit still, I stood shakily and held onto the wall for my support. Jacoby was pacing in the kitchen with the phone in hand, trying to keep his voice level and controlled.

I leaned against the counter, pressing my closed eyelids with my hands. How could this happen? Where was Sophie? Why wasn't she answering? _Sophie's in danger…I have to find her._

I looked up as soon as I heard Jacoby hang up.

"They're on their way," he said quietly. He placed the phone back to its holder, next to the answering machine. My reaction was instantaneous.

"What if she left a message?!"

I dove toward the answering machine, going for the nearest button.

"You have two saved messages," it chimed in response. "Message one. March 7th." That had only been a little over two weeks ago, when the weather was still raging.

"It's okay. There's no use being scared," Jacoby commented from the living room. He had somehow gotten there without my noticing. Was he soothing Poona?

Sophie's voice projected lucidly on the machine, soaked with her usual indifference. "I decided to call to inform you that I won't be home for a while. I found her. Goodbye."

"End of message one."

"What the hell? Why didn't you call to tell me that?" I asked bitterly. It definitely would have been helpful. It was relieving enough to know that she was still alive at least…right? And who had she found?

"Message two. March 9th."

I crossed my fingers.

After an empty pause and a slow breath, an unfamiliar female voice—with inflections that rose up and down as she spoke—droned from the machine.

"Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me-ee…" Her tone lacked the emotion to emphasize each word. Listening to her gave me goosebumps, but not nearly as much as when she added, "I like my present. You should have kept her under wraps. Sophie's too breakable. I love you."

"End of saved messages."

_Beep._

Sophie's…breakable? What the hell did that mean? Who was this? Why did she sound so creepy? Was she calling Sophie a present?

I backed away from the answering machine nervously, just as Jacoby rounded the corner.

"The police will be here soon. Let's wait for them outside," he insisted, tugging on my arm.

"…Sophie's in trouble."

"I gathered that from what happened to her mom. The question is: what kind of trouble?"

"…We have to find her."

"Chelle, there are endless possibilities as to where she could be—"

I whirled on him frantically. "She was investigating! She was investigating the train attack and the terrorists! She's in danger! She told her mom that she wouldn't be home for a while. And then someone left a creepy message…"

Jacoby looked ready to surrender when he saw my eyes filling up with more tears. "Rochelle, listen to me. Today hasn't been a good day. You need to calm down. Even better, you need to get Poona to calm down. Your pokémon is about to go insane. Both of you need to get out of this house, get some fresh air. We're going to talk to the police when they get here and give them our story. You are going to _relax_. You're not in charge of Sophie—"

"Her mom is _dead_! Who else is there?" I'd never met or even heard of Sophie's father.

"Everything will be okay. You have to believe that," he said harshly, and thrust me through the front door.

I stood by myself on the porch until Poona ran out from the doorway and crouched frailly in a corner. I had never seen her shake so hard before. I was surprised she wasn't taking this with the casualness she was known for, despite how truly horrific it was. I guess it made sense. I had only glimpsed at the body fleetingly, but it was apparently pretty savage.

"_Why did this happen?" _she asked, breaking the silence.

I couldn't explain this crime or why such good people like Ms. Faraday deserved to die from unnatural causes. Ms. Faraday had always been a sweet woman with compassion unlike anyone I'd ever known. Sophie was the antithesis to her mother with a few inherited exceptions, such as her mother's hair color and type, her organized and meticulous nature, and her unwavering loyalty. Ms. Faraday had been a second mother to me, welcoming me despite my mischievous behavior and pranks. Now that she was gone, I could no longer have any of her sugar cookies. She was probably one of the last people patient enough to handle me and was also my last connection to Sophie.

What kind of answer could I supply my inquisitive, naïve, and unendingly loving furret?

"…I don't know."

The authorities arrived in a flurry, along with my parents, who I suspect Jacoby had called mere moments after shoving me out the door. Mom wouldn't let me go, as if she felt I could escape at any moment in time. To my thankful surprise, she had brought a large jacket for me, which seemed to devour the top half of my body so that it was safely hidden. I managed to force my hands up the sleeves so that nothing was showing. The fur was no longer in sight.

While our parents enveloped us with affectionate sternness and relief, the police enveloped us with questions of our activities and our relation to Ms. Faraday. They were inquisitive but seemed to recognize the fragile and panicked state we were in, which is probably why their questions weren't as prying as they could have been. They also asked about other family members, of which I handed them Sophie's number. After their own attempts, however, they reported the number to be disconnected.

Once the police were done asking us questions for now, Mom and Dad dragged us back home, to where Keane and Elder Li were waiting patiently on the porch. While Mom and Dad explained the situation, I fell into a miserable silence, eyes trained on the fur spreading down my arms.

"_This experience must be terrible for you. I'm sorry for what you saw," _Keane commented sympathetically. He had probably seen the images in my head. It was definitely an unfair advantage. Right now, I wanted those thoughts to be private, especially since I was so wrecked over the possibility of Sophie being in danger.

"…How can I make this stop?" I asked, ignoring his apologies. He wasn't the cause of this, so I didn't understand why he was acting so solemn…Unless—

"_Elder Li and I were not the cause of this tragedy. We're not capable of such brutality," _Keane remarked. He seemed disturbed by my accusing imagination. _"I understand you wish to keep your thoughts private, but I have to defend myself and my companion if you believe we are virulent enough to commit this tragedy. Where is Poona?"_

"She's—" I looked down at my feet and then spun in a frantic circle. "Poona? Poona! POONA!" Had she disappeared without me noticing? I knew she was fast, but she could not have been that speedy. Had she even traveled back to the house with me? How had I not noticed her absence?

I was about to jet away from the house while frantically calling for Poona, when Keane directed me toward an approaching ball of fur in the distance. Poona was lightly dragging her paws, staring down at the ground as she walked. I ran toward her without a second thought and scooped her into my arms, swinging her in circles.

"Poona! Don't you ever do that again! You scared me! Where did you go?" I squinted at her, noticing some unnatural scratches along her fur. "Were you fighting wild pokemon or something? Where did you get those scratches from?"

"_I was scared," _she said quietly. She wasn't shaking, but she was scarily still and somehow unfocused. Somehow I didn't think I was going to get a definite answer as to where she was and what she was doing.

"I was, too. Please don't run off. I was so scared I had lost you, too," I said, giving her an even tighter hug. When I set her down upon the ground, she crouched into a weak stance and propped herself up on her tail, sturdily bouncing herself toward the porch.

I noticed Elder Li was speaking very seriously with my parents, and somehow I didn't catch even tidbits of the conversation. Was he going to help me or what? I wanted this issue to be solved so that I would be able to get out of this town soon and locate Sophie. The most I knew was that she was in danger.

When I entered the house, I found Keane speaking with Trevor and Jacoby, who had probably let the xatu into the house. I disregarded this traitorous move and trekked to my room, Poona following me silently. I had to peer behind me several times to check and see if she was still there.

"…Anything you want to talk about, Poona?" I asked when we reached my room, slipping off the jacket. I still wanted to know where she had gone.

Poona bounced onto my bed and curled up in the covers. _"…I just want to know who could be that awful."_

"I don't know. I just hope Sophie's okay."

"…_Does she know? About her mom?"_

"Probably not."

Poona placed her head solemnly on her paws. _"I would want to know. About my mom."_

"Sophie needs to be okay." I looked down at the fur again. Why didn't Sophie ever call to tell me she wasn't going to be home for a while? Was it because of the bad weather and reception? _Please be okay…_

A knock from the door didn't pique my interest. I glared at the wall and sighed impatiently instead.

"What?"

"_You wish to know how to remove your fur, yes?"_

"…Come in if you can figure out how to open the door."

Surprisingly, the door opened before I even finished that statement. Keane flew into the room and landed at the end of my bed, crossing his wings in front of him earnestly. He used a psychic. Cheater.

"_That wasn't cheating. I always use that ability to open doors," _he remarked like a total smartass, adding, _"And I'm not—in your merry words—a total smartass," _like the total smartass he was.

"Whaddya want? Can't you tell we're hashing out our trauma here?"

"_There are some important details that are necessary for you to learn in order for you to progress and remove the fur."_

I was desperate enough to remove the fur. Otherwise, I wouldn't have allowed him in my room, especially when I was in such a frazzled state. "Speak, Mr. Beak."

"_Rochelle, you were informed when you were younger that you had learned Pokéspeech from a Pokéspeech tutor. That was a lie. You were fluent. Pokémon have the innate ability to communicate with one another and understand other creatures overtime. You have this ability as well."_

I knew it. I knew that I never had a tutor. I would've remembered something like that, right? Even if I only had vague memories of the activities I did when I was younger, the most I could remember was beyond my age of six. Five and below was blurry—mostly gone. That's why I suspected I had become fluent at a remarkably young age...although deep down I'd always had a feeling that my parents had been lying. However, I chose not to acknowledge it. Confronting them only would have resulted in an extended period of punishment. I had always wanted and still wanted to get out of this place as soon as possible.

"I figured that when you said I was turning into a pokémon. What else have I been lied to about?"

"_The rest aren't lies. You just were uninformed of the circumstances. As I'm sure you remember, Elder Li mentioned there was an ongoing conflict that had been occurring for hundreds of years."_

"Yep."

"_Would you join me in the living room? Your parents wish to hear this story as well," _he requested politely.

I had four answers to that: No, hell no, hell nah, and if-you-don't-get-this-fur-off-of-me-I'll-rip-out-a ll-of-your-feathers. I wanted to squash these into one reply, but it only came out as gibberish in my head.

"_It will only be a moment. I understand it's a very difficult time for you right now, but you have a family who cares for you and desires your safety. They wish to learn more about this subject to protect you."_

I pouted and checked Poona for permission, hoping that she was still my ally and would help to fortify the fort. Instead, she headed toward the door, slipping through the crack. Yep, Jacoby had definitely converted her.

I sighed and exited the room, entering the living room with a grim expression. Mom and Dad were in separate corners of the room, with Mom being nearest to Elder Li by the open hallway that led to the front door. Jacoby and Trevor occupied the couches, along with Keane, who had just flown in from my room. Chewy was sitting in front of Jacoby and next to Poona. They had started whispering between each other quietly.

"All right. Let's get this over with."

"Chelle, we don't have to do this now," Mom said suddenly. She approached me gently, putting her hands over mine. Her touch was soothing in the fact she didn't pull away after making contact with the fur. "That was surely very traumatizing for you. I'd personally feel more comfortable if we all just settled down and talked about something else."

That…actually sounded pretty nice. But I didn't want to relax. I was on the edge—teetering over it, to be exact. If I didn't get rid of this fur somehow…

"I understand your feelings, Leandra…but Rochelle needs to hear of this now," Elder Li cut in gravely. "She needs to understand some reasons behind this occurrence. What happened to Annie was an unfortunate tragedy, but, if we don't stop the fur from spreading, Chelle could become a pokémon. It would be best to retain her humanity before this gets beyond our control."

I was kind of relieved to hear him say that. But I didn't mention this. I just continued staring at my arms as if they would soon disappear. It's not as if I could see my skin anymore anyway. The fur had eaten away all of the skin on my arms, grossly gray and yet incredibly soft and addictive to rub on my legs, which were, thankfully, bare skin.

Keane straightened in his oddly human way, his unseeing eyes scanning the room without even having to move. _"As we had told you previously, Rochelle, this curse came as a result of a conflict. This conflict arose at the beginning of time, with the creation of pokémon and humans. They initially learned to coexist by assisting the other species with menial tasks. Eventually, however, humans became aware of how much power they could obtain by using pokémon in order to conquer in war between other humans. This led to an even greater war between pokémon and humans. When both sides sustained considerable damage from the others' abuse, they attempted compromises to repair the situation._

"_Their first compromise began with separating both species entirely. This hurt more than helped. Each species had relied so dependently on the other that the separation only assisted in decreasing the population between both. When it became apparent that they were meant to live together with how sparse and empty it had become, they reached a second compromise. The humans were limited with the power, and pokémon dominated under the reign of the legendaries._

"_When humans declined considerably as a result, the legendaries regretted their actions and promised a stronger bond between humans and pokémon. This bond came in the form of a pokéball. These were not the pokéballs that we see used in the training world today. They were designed in nearly the same fashion, however, with a white lower and upper half that was meant to symbolize each race bonded together. They were spherical to represent that the bonds could not be severed and would last for eternity, showing the equality that came with such a bond. It was meant to tie humans and pokémon permanently and have them develop a mutualistic relationship. Humans could use these objects to capture pokémon to build a team in which everyone worked together, but pokémon could struggle and escape if they did not want to be taken or simply refuse to side with the humans._

"_However, eventually humans abused this system by weakening the pokémon before capture, leaving them with no choice but to be taken. They began to make it a game by pinning their captured pokémon against other pokémon to demonstrate their superiority. In addition to this, humans created their own pokéballs to use as tools of faulty promises and capture. Pokémon obeyed only under the fraudulence of friendship. At this abuse of power, the legendaries became enraged and threatened the annihilation of the species. They realized, however, they could not harm the humans without harming the pokémon._

"_This called for a desperate need of balance. How could humans be sated with their power and the company of pokémon while pokémon were also given their freewill and the company of humans? The legendaries set out to find these answers. Soon they realized that pokémon were the only ones trying to remedy the situation, as humans were ignorantly content with the system._

"_While legendaries were originally tasked with bringing stability to both sides, they realized there was no definite solution to the problem. As a result, they pinned the responsibility on their subjects—pokémon and humans—and let time handle the fate of this conflict. Time bound everyone with an image of fraudulent peace, however, which only extended the problem. Elder Li and I predict that the curse was enacted from the wrath of the legendaries._" He took a great pause here, filling the room with a weighty silence.

"…And how is that supposed to remove this?" I held up my arms again. I didn't dare look at them this time. They were making me nervous.

If I had wanted to learn some history, I wouldn't have slept in history class. I knew for a fact, however, that the teacher's version of history was entirely different from what Keane had just told me. His version was definitely less peaceful. In my teacher's version, the legendaries weren't mentioned to have been in reign over pokémon and humans. They were mentioned in regards to the creation of the lands, but not as superior figures that made rules for everyone and everything. Additionally, it was stated that the system of battling with pokéballs had always been used rather than offered as a solution.

"_You must liberate pokémon by boycotting pokéballs and preventing further capture and entrapment. If you act as if you own a pokémon, the curse will only worsen. The story I just told explains the reasons behind this need. Many pokémon and villainous trainers have been acting to liberate pokémon through violent means, but we feel as if civil disobedience is the correct route."_

"It is odd," Dad said thoughtfully, just as I was getting ready to throw out some protests to Keane's solution. "I wasn't even aware there was an issue involved with the other regions, not since teams, such as Team Rocket, were captured, arrested, or disbanded. Are you saying that _all_ pokémon must be liberated even if we all seem to be getting along right now?"

That brought up a really good point. "Yeah! What he said!"

Keane kept his eyes leveled with ours, undeterred by our arguments. "_Since the elimination of the power-hungry teams that swept the regions years ago, things have been quiet amongst the humans until just recently. As I'm sure you've heard, trainers and pokémon have been getting attacked—some killed—and there have been numerous attacks given to disrupt the lull of peace. This has sparked some concern and urgency, and the environment has responded through violence, as you can see._

"_However, while things may appear peaceful since there isn't any outright and declared conflict, I assure you there have been hostilities for years. Most recently, there were many rumored pokémon revolutions."_

"Like pokémon raising pitchforks and sending angry mobs to attack human homes?" I asked questionably, lifting an eyebrow.

I hadn't thought there'd be anything like this, so this time I was getting to be a little taken aback by this information. I knew pokémon could be even more hostile than humans since it was in their instinctive nature to fight—as my professors taught us countless times at school, which is how they justified battling—but I didn't think they actually _hated_ humans. Humans didn't hate pokémon. They liked them. I just assumed the feeling was mutual. That just proved how one-sided it had been for years. We really were acting without consent, offering no choices, and selfishly putting our desires before theirs. But still, we were mostly caring for them. Didn't that make what seemed wrong right?

"_Yes. I witnessed firsthand the fury of an entire herd of pokémon. They are willing to do more than fight for their freedom," _Keane said, with a note of remorse. _"They are just as forceful as humans when it comes to getting what they want. This is why the legendaries are forcing humans to understand the perspective of both sides. You're technically a pokémon and a human—two in one."_

Sophie had been right from the very beginning. Why hadn't I listened to her? If she said she had thought she was a pokémon, did that mean she was also like me? Or would that be too much of a coincidence? When could I call her and leave this place to find her?

Keane lifted his wings starkly, holding them in front of him almost as if he were about to offer something. _"If you're willing to, you must begin your training. There are many things to consider, especially in regards to your behavior. You are not allowed to use pokéballs, and you must regard pokémon as equals by supplying them with a choice and offering them the opportunity to accompany you."_

Elder Li finally spoke up after sitting throughout the explanation in a thoughtful silence. "You may begin with Poona."

With his last statement, I nearly flinched and would have if it hadn't made me boil with anger first. I stole a glance at Poona, who was entrapped with the conversation. She seemed to be switching back and forth between paying attention and floundering in her thoughts. I didn't like that. He was making her question things, and she hadn't used to be this unsure or critical until he started factoring her in.

"Poona was never caught with a pokéball. She's been free this entire time," Elder Li continued. "Yet she has been raised as if she was owned, correct?"

"Hey! Poona wants to stay! Stop bringing her up!" I cried resentfully. It made me mad that he knew so much. I always thought she never had a pokéball since I never saw one that was hers, but why was that? Had my parents purposely set out without pokéballs because they knew I wasn't allowed to use them with my curse? They had really kept this from me my entire life.

Mom urged me to calm down, while Dad bent down to stroke Poona lovingly. She didn't deny him of this gesture but did stiffen from underneath his hands.

"How do you know? Have you asked her?"

"Well, of course I asked her!" I was hoping Poona would play along, but no such luck from my honest, morally good furret.

"_No, you didn't," _Poona said confusedly.

Elder Li turned back to me. If he wasn't so quiet and wise he probably would have said, "I told you so."

I turned to my furret sharply. She flinched from under my gaze. I would probably have to reassure her later that she wasn't the reason I was intemperate. The smug geezer sitting across from me was.

"Poona, do you want to stay with me?"

She bounced onto her tail defensively. _"Of course I do, Chelly! You're my best friend!"_

"Ha!" I was torn between either sticking my tongue out or giving an outright declaration of my smugness, but something caught my attention in that instant.

The fluff that had been spreading on my arms had vanished. This was even more reason to do a victory dance.

I struck a pose triumphantly, which embarrassed my mom enough for her to want to distract Elder Li and Keane with inquiries about beverages or snacks.

"Look at that! Too tough for the fluff! Screw that stuff!" I thought my rhyme had been clever, but no one complimented me about it.

"Rochelle, the fur only disappeared when you regarded Poona as an equal."

Everything he was saying about 'regarding pokemon as equals'…it was making me wonder if I hadn't been doing that all along. Otherwise, why would the fur have appeared?

"I thought that I've always regarded her as an equal."

"Every trainer shares this sentiment with you since they share a deep relationship with their pokémon. However, trainers truly have more choices in comparison to their pokémon. It has never been a perfectly balanced relationship."

Nothing was ever perfectly balanced, I knew that. But weren't the pokémon and the trainer working together?

Keane's eyes wavered over the ground. _"Rochelle, who do you believe is the leader in a pokémon team?"_

That was a trick question. "It depends on the team."

"_Let me rephrase my question. Who is usually giving the commands?"_

This time Jacoby interjected. "The trainer, but the members all have to work together, and the pokémon don't _have_ to follow directions."

"_So why do they?"_

Jacoby stroked his miniature beard. "…Maybe they think it's fun?" Best Answer of the Year goes to Jacoby. Bonus points for creativity.

"_Did you ever ask Chewy why he complied with your instructions?"_

Jacoby looked down at his raticate thoughtfully, whose whiskers twitched responsively.

"_Perhaps he's scared he won't be fed otherwise? Perhaps he does it only to please his trainer? But why would he need to? Don't we all aim to indulge ourselves?"_

He looked sternly at the xatu. "That's not true. Not everyone is looking out for themselves. I take care of my team. I'd be nothing without them."

"_If what you say is true, then no pokémon team would possess the hostilities we see today. Every trainer takes care of their pokémon and claims the same thing. Some pokémon may get the interjection that they desire but are trapped within a fate they have no control over. Most trainers seem to forget that the pokémon they acquired have their own names, families, friends, and culture. Pokémon are so similar to humans but so much more powerful that it's a wonder how they haven't dominated the race at this point. If such a balance isn't achieved soon, this may end up happening." _He directed himself toward me. _"Do you understand the direness of this situation now?"_

I crossed my arms stubbornly. "Look. I get it. I'm not saying it's not important. I just don't get why this is my fault."

"It isn't, like they've said the past hundred times," Trevor said irritably, loud enough for me to hear him. I faced him darkly.

"Why didn't they get any fur?" I pointed to Jacoby and Trevor accusingly, ready to pounce if Trevor uttered another word.

"There is no telling why this happened to you or if it's happening to anyone else. Right now we can only do our best to tame the curse before it takes a toll on you," Elder Li said. "We are limited on our knowledge, but our wisdom exceeds our worthlessness. The fur is gone for now, but it may return. Eventually, you must begin training at Sprout Tower, but for now we will allow you to rest. It is important for you to maintain a relaxed awareness rather than the tension you are currently experiencing."

Elder Li stood, thanking my parents and traipsing toward the door. They said their goodbyes in hushed whispers, and the monk and his xatu departed without further distress.

All the while, I was situated on the couch, staring down at my arms, expecting them to blossom with fur yet again.


	12. One Day More

_12. One Day More_

* * *

Mom sat beside me, wrapping her arms around me. "It's okay. You're safe. This has been too much for you to take in. I know it's early, but you need your rest. You should go to bed."

"_What?_" I flew to my feet. "I am _not_ going to bed. It's not even seven."

Jacoby walked past us into the hallway that intersected our rooms, waving over his shoulder. "I'm not arguing. G'night." Chewy followed but threw a glance toward Poona.

"If what you saw has overwhelmed you, then there's no bother in going to bed early," Dad suggested.

"…I'd rather take a walk outside first." At least then I could pass the time and clear my head. There were some things I wanted to talk to Poona about, anyway.

Mom pursed her lips. I knew the objection was coming soon. She was about to get the chains. I could sense it.

"…Don't stay out for too long. I don't want you out while it's dark. I really want you to get some sleep."

I blinked. Wasn't expecting that. I wanted to point out how unusual this was for her, but I knew I would be pressing my luck if I did so. I couldn't refuse a miracle.

"After what you saw, I'm surprised you even want to step outside," Dad commented. He didn't seem to like it as much as Mom did, but he was being just as submissive. I guess I was just super lucky.

It was scary to have witnessed Ms. Faraday's demise, I had to say. But I was too prideful to admit this aloud. I strode confidently toward the door instead, bidding my parents temporary farewell.

Poona followed after me wordlessly. No doubt she was thinking about everything that had been said. She probably thought I should listen and cooperate with the monks, and, honestly, I was starting to believe I should, too. But how would that work? What could I do? Could I still become a trainer, with the exception of having no pokéballs? Then how could I _be_ a trainer?

"One day. That's all it took," I muttered grouchily, kicking some dirt as we walked. "It took one day for all of this to happen. They can't seriously expect me to adjust this soon. What's the point of becoming a trainer if I can't train my own pokémon? Everyone has pokémon. It's a fact of life. Not every human is controlling. I'm not." I looked down at Poona decisively to affirm my sentence. "Am I?"

"_No, you're not," _Poona said kindly, but she wasn't smiling as she said it.

She was frightfully thoughtful, slinking back into a tentative silence. For once, I feared what my little furret would do and how she would respond to all of this. While everyone was grinding their heels into the dirt to see what I'd do, I was watching Poona, debating my moves and wondering if I had been doing the right thing.

Had I been doing the right thing with her? She had never really been given a choice. Maybe if I offered her one I would be able to alleviate this horrible tension and sleep soundly with the ensured presence of my furret by me.

"_It's weird that you're not entirely human," _Poona said carefully, interrupting my thoughts.

"Well, I think I _am_ entirely human, just as long as I treat pokémon equally," I explained.

"_You have to start training," _she said quietly.

"Yeah, maybe I will…but first…" I turned toward Poona with a smile, planting my hands on my hips. "Whaddya say to your own training? I'll give you berries afterwards."

Usually my bribe won her over, but she looked too inhibited this time. Something was definitely wrong.

"_I kinda just…I don't know…I think you should go back," _Poona said reasonably. _"You need to start training. Keane said so."_

"Yeah, but it's a lot, Poona! I don't think I can handle that much. Plus…I don't want to." I sheepishly scratched the back of my head as she scrutinized me. This wasn't something I was used to—Poona filling me with reasonable words and making me nervous for not following through with commitments or duties.

"_But you have to,"_ Poona protested. She wasn't missing a beat. She had definitely given this a lot of thought.

"Maybe at a different time. For now…I have to find Sophie." I was pretty decisive in this action. I had been here for much too long. Knowing my friend was most likely in danger, I couldn't stay here much longer, no matter what my parents said.

Jacoby's words of my selfishness slammed against me, but I internally defended myself with the reminder of Sophie's hazardous situation. If Sophie's mother was dead—for unknown reasons—then what had happened to Sophie? Who had she found? Who was the person who had left that cryptic message on the answering machine?

Poona's voice pulled me from my thoughts. _"How? We can't leave. Not yet. You need your license."_

I didn't tell her that I didn't see the point of getting a license if I couldn't be an actual trainer. Instead, I said, "We're leaving. Tomorrow night."

"_What?"_

Her response made me uneasy. It sounded shaken, on the brink of shock, but mostly devastated.

"That'll give us plenty of time to prepare. During the day we can gather supplies and get any last-minute stuff." I frowned at her hollow expression, cocking my head. "...What's goin' on?"

"…_You need to stay." _She practically whispered it, but it sounded so feeble that it could hardly be counted as a sound.

I didn't want to argue with her when it was obvious something was gnawing at her. I kneeled down beside her, stroking her gently behind the ears. Keane had only been telling me what I needed to do. If I had to liberate pokémon, I'd start with my own, but I was already pretty positive of what her reaction would be. The time when I had asked in front of Keane and Elder Li had felt too unreal. It felt more as if Poona had been liberating me at the time.

"Poona…do you want to stay with me? As my pokémon and friend?" I asked seriously.

"_Duh." _She brightened a little, proud of her word choice.

That was reassuring, but I almost wondered if she was holding back for my sake. I didn't like her word choice, but I couldn't blame who she had learned it from.

What could be wrong with her then? Earlier, she had been scarred from the experience of Ms. Faraday's brutal murder. She had been freaking out pretty badly…and what had I done in response? Comforted her minimally. Jacoby had done more than I had. At this, I felt a pang of shame.

"Are you scared because of what happened to Sophie's mom?"

She stared down at her paws. _"…Sophie doesn't know."_

"No. She doesn't. That's why we need to find her."

"…_I don't know either."_

Okay, she lost me. "What?"

"_I don't know…my real mom. I don't know who she is…what she looks like…if she's dead or alive…" _Poona trailed off nervously, as if she had been expecting a negative reaction.

"…You want to meet your family, don't you?"

She lowered her head softly, nodding. That's what was bothering her. She couldn't remember her true family, and it was eating her from the inside out—more than the consideration of berries, and that usually consumed her entirely.

I drew her into an affectionate hug, pressing her into my side as I dipped my head to snuggle against her fur. "Poona, you know you can do whatever you want, right? I love you, and you love me, and I want you to do whatever you want to do. We can try to find your family, maybe get a lead from my dad about it, if that's what you want. Do you want that?"

For the first time that evening, she was positively glowing with joy and continuously bobbed her head in agreement.

"_Yes! I want to find my family!"_

I scratched her behind the ears and hopped to my feet. "All right! Then before we leave tomorrow, we can search for them." I was hoping this would satisfy her for now. There was no way we could find her family within a day. That was asking too much. But we would at least try.

Poona agreed happily, and we went back to the house. No one seemed to want to urge me or bring up the subject of training. My whole family was intent on giving me my own space. Trevor even avoided my eyes at one point, dropping his gaze and retreating to his room. Ignoring the conscientious boundaries, I waltzed up to Dad and asked him about where he'd found Poona's family.

"It was just outside New Bark Town," he informed me.

"Cool! All right. We'll head in that direction starting tomorrow, Poona," I declared solidly.

Poona nodded absently, yawning.

It was still too early, but I was exhausted, too. "Yeah, let's get to bed."

After I did my nightly routine of showering, brushing my hair and teeth, and making sure I was squeaky clean, I slipped into my bed, with my well-groomed furret curling up against me.

"_I wonder if I have any brothers or sisters," _she said suddenly, with her eyes closed.

I thought of Trevor and Jacoby. "Let's hope you don't."

"_I don't know. I think they would be kind of fun."_

Hearing Poona talk excitedly about the possibilities of her family was grating on my conscience. That was saying a lot since the majority of the time I didn't even realize I had a conscience. I had told Poona that we'd be able to find her family…but there was no great amount of probability to finding them in a day. We needed that day to prepare for the departure of finding Sophie after all.

"…Poona."

"_Chelly?" _Her eyes had remained closed until she noticed the significant number of seconds ticking by. This is when she opened her eyes and peered at me softly.

"…We, uh…probably…" I cleared my throat. "Wewon'tbeabletosearchforyourfamily tomorrow."

Used to my babble, she had picked up every word. She blinked in complete shock now.

"_Why…not?"_

"There are so many furrets and sentrets near New Bark Town and in the routes in general. It would be really, _really_ hard to find your family, especially with not knowing which one is really yours. But we may be able to find them eventually. It would just take a while, and there's no way we'd be able to find them tomorrow." I hated to be so pessimistic to my optimistic furret, but it was just too impractical. Normally I would have jumped on the bandwagon of impractical things and possibilities, but knowing that Sophie was possibly in danger I couldn't afford to dawdle. I needed to get out of this place.

Poona was devastatingly quiet.

"I'm sorry, Poona. I didn't want to disappoint you or make you sad, but there are hundreds of sentrets and furrets and it would be really hard to find the exact members of your family. We could find them eventually…just not now."

"…_I understand." _I thought that was that.

Until she started sniveling.

_Shitshitshit—_

I hopped out of bed and ran out of the room, coming back with my full berry supply. I had kept them on an unreachable shelf in the pantry in a bag that I appropriately deemed the "berry bag." Whenever I fetched this bag, Poona would immediately bounce onto her tail and usurp as many as I'd offer her.

"H-here, Poona! Berries!"

She was shaking too violently from crying, however. With her current state, she would have choked if she had eaten any of them anyway.

"Poona…please don't cry." I held her until she calmed down. When she did, she said something shocking.

"_I-I'm not hungry…"_

Oh no. This was bad. "Not" was never between "I'm hungry." Even if she was full, she'd find ways to be hungry again. This was really upsetting her if she was refusing _berries_.

"Poona, don't cry! What can I do? Do you want me to do a funny dance? We can do a funny dance!" Funny dances saved lives. I hopped to my feet before she even replied and started wiggling my arms crazily.

"_N-no…"_

"…Are you sure you don't want berries?"

"_No!"_

She continued sobbing for the next five minutes, of which I just danced and cracked terrible jokes. I was really bad at comforting people. With Henrietta it had been an easy process. I'd say a few encouraging words, give her a lasting hug (of which I'd make sure no tears or snot was on me), and pat her back comfortingly. This had never happened before with Poona. She never _cried_. I didn't even think that was possible for her.

I stopped waving my arms when she stopped crying. Of course, the moment I stopped waving my arms, I noticed something very important.

The fur had resurfaced on my arms.

"…What." I stared unblinkingly. Not again. No. Please no. I didn't want to be a pokémon.

In any case, it wasn't spreading. It had merely sprouted—frozen, yet ready to grow if I made an incorrect decision.

"…Poona."

"…_Y-yeah?"_

I placed one hand on her head and stroked her behind her ears. I could still see the fur, but I tried blocking it from my vision, focusing on my furret instead. "Do you want to go with me to find Sophie tomorrow?"

"…_Yes."_

"Really? You're not just saying that?"

"_No. I do want to go with you. I'm worried though."_

"About what?"

"_My mom…I never met her. What if something bad had happened to her? I wouldn't even know about it."_

I could understand that. Poona had recently witnessed the tragedy of Ms. Faraday's death, and Sophie was unaware of it happening since she had no contact with Violet City. Since she didn't know her mom, she realized that she didn't know anything of what had happened to her.

"Poona…you know, that's what it's like for Sophie. She could be in trouble, and she doesn't know that her mom is dead. That's why I want to find her so badly. Like you, Sophie would want to know what happened to her mom."

Poona looked up at me. _"…Yeah."_

"…I'm tired. Are you tired?"

She nodded and curled up in a ball at the end of my bed.

"…_G'night, Chelly."_

"Good night, Poona…" _I'll make it up to you._

I went to sleep with my furret at the foot of my bed.

* * *

When I awoke the next morning, I was the only one occupying my bed. The berry bag was gone.

My eyes grazed the floor, searching endlessly. "Poona?"

When I saw my door was open, I relaxed. She had probably opened it on her own by standing on her tail or had gotten someone else to do so just so she could wander somewhere else. I always slept late on Sundays, and she was an early riser.

I headed for the kitchen first, gobbling down as many muffins as my stomach could handle. Jacoby entered the kitchen with Chewy, who was sniffing the ground hungrily.

"Have you seen Poona?" I asked, wiping crumbs from my mouth. I had expected to see her curled up on a couch or something, but she also could have followed my mom around. Mom was in her room at the moment. I would have to check if Jacoby didn't know.

"Last I saw her with was Mom," he replied, placing some cheese on the ground for Chewy. I liked being right.

After finishing up my breakfast, I hurried to my mom's room, peeking inside. She was lying on her bed, looking well rested. I went around her bed to her dresser, expecting to see a furret _somewhere_. Instead, I found nothing.

I bumped into the bed as I passed again, rousing Mom from her sleep.

"…Chelle…?"

"Where's Poona?" I demanded shortly.

"Poona…? She was…" She yawned. "Trevor maybe? I went to lie down, and she went to Trevor…"

I suddenly had an awful feeling as I went to my little brother's room next door. Without knocking, I opened it to see Trevor slouched over some books. He put down his book to give me an angry expression.

"Why doesn't anyone ever knock—"

"Where's Poona?" I interrupted curtly.

"I let her out, but I told Jacoby to let her back in when she was done going to the restroom," he explained. "Now can you get o—"

"JACOBY!" I bolted out of the room and glared lasers at my older brother, who was innocently eating some chips in the kitchen. "Where's Poona?!"

"I told you—"

"Mom told me Trevor had her, and Trevor said he let her out and that you were supposed to let her back in! Did you?!" I was going to slap him if he was messing with me.

He froze, swallowing slowly. "…No. I forgot."

I punched him.

"HEY! It's not my fault if you sleep in for forever! It's lunchtime, not breakfast-time, FYI!"

"I don't care what time it is! What time were you supposed to let her back in?"

He paused. "Early this morning, but I can't remember…"

I went to the porch and searched. When my miniature search resulted in nothing, I started screaming her name.

"POONA? POONA!"

There was an edge of terror to my voice. Without even thinking, I was running–rushing past trainers, kicking at bushes, tearing through trees. It was like I thought Poona would miraculously appear in the middle of my panicked stampede if I was fast enough.

When it became obvious that I was only vandalizing pokémon homes instead of getting closer to actually finding Poona, I reeled back in the direction of my house. The abrupt disappearance of my furret was enough to send me scurrying back towards my older brother, who had remained in the living room on the biggest couch. I snatched his arms and demanded his attention, speaking gibberish through tears that the terror had sapped from me and my overflowing eyes.

Surely she was playing a trick on me. She had said so herself that she wanted to stay. She couldn't have just _left_. Was it because I had told her we didn't have time to look for her family? Of course that's what it was…but she couldn't just _leave_, could she?

Jacoby jumped to his feet and tried to get rid of my panic.

"Stop worrying, Chelle. This is Poona we're talking about here. Did you check the garden? Maybe she's sleeping in the garden."

"She's not there. She's not anywhere," I said, swallowing hard enough to injure my voice. "I don't even know where the berry bag is. She left. She's gone." I couldn't believe it. Where could she have possibly gone? How did she manage to get away so sneakily?

"Okay, here." He released PMS and then pushed Chewy forward. "We'll use Chewy and Preen. Chewy has a great nose, and Preen can check from above. Let's go."

He had started toward the front door. I followed promptly after him, but had trouble being close with Preen since she was so spastic about her space. We were halfway through the front door when we noticed Chewy wasn't following. Well, more accurately, Jacoby noticed. I was about to bolt so fast that I would have been considered a relative of lightning.

"Chewy? Come on let's go." Jacoby tugged the raticate by one his whiskers. He responded by gnashing his teeth. "Chewy! What is up with you? Let's go! We have to find Poona!"

"_Poona is fine," _Chewy said simply. It didn't sound cold, but the meaning of it was enough to give me chills and stop me in my tracks.

"What do you mean she's 'fine'? You talked to her?" I demanded.

"_Yes. She's fine."_

"Where did she go?" Jacoby asked.

"_That is none of your concern anymore."_

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. When did Chewy start being disobedient to _Jacoby_? The two bonded better than butter on bread. And from what he was saying…did this mean he had helped her get away?

"Chewy, I don't like your attitude." It sounded weak even to me. Jacoby wasn't used to his best and favorite pokémon giving him a hard time. He was at a loss of words himself.

"_That is too bad. I am not helping you. I respect her choice," _Chewy replied. He sat down as if to prove his point.

"Do you want to join her?" Jacoby asked threateningly.

The threat was weighty enough to crumble him. He whimpered a little in his reply, eyes softening. _"No. I want to stay with you."_

"Then tell us where she went, Chewy!"

"_I…But…" _Chewy looked between us uncertainly.

Preen flapped her wings impatiently. _"Enough, both of you! This is getting us nowhere. The rat won't be ratting his girlfriend out anytime soon. We should leave. Jacoby, release Goober. He'd be more helpful than this loyal twit." _Huh. I always thought they had a thing.

Chewy looked too embarrassed to get upset over the comment about Goober. _"She's not my—"_

"_Oh, please. Don't think I didn't see you lick her."_

I didn't know whether I should have been proud or appalled at this information. I felt my motherly instincts kick in. Suddenly, I didn't want the raticate to help anymore.

Chewy turned away from Preen, clearly embarrassed. _"Please respect Poona's wishes."_

"What is she doing?"

"_She…I can't tell you that." _Chewy slunk back, resigning himself entirely.

I could strangle the life out of Chewy for Poona's location, or I could guilt him into helping somehow. I picked the peaceful option and slumped. "She didn't seem like she wanted to go out on her own. She should have said something! I would have understood! Maybe I would have stayed longer so that I could help her find her parents. She didn't even say goodbye…"

Chewy held no valuable response. He remained silent like the little prick he was. I didn't like that.

So I attacked him.

He tried to get me off by shaking himself and then rolling all over the ground. Unfortunately, it worked. He loosened me off very quickly and then fled to Jacoby's side, awaiting instructions. From his stance, he obviously wanted to fight back, but also didn't want to upset my brother further.

"Don't attack my pokémon!" Jacoby yelled, switching sides immediately. "How mature are you? Seriously? And did you say something about leaving? You were going to _leave_?"

"I wouldn't have attacked if he would just tell me where Poona was!"

"_She doesn't want to be found. Don't you get that, you stupid girl?" _Chewy shot back harshly. He had made a complete turn-around from my attack.

Jacoby smacked the side of Chewy's head, receiving a growl in response. "Shut it! You're both being stupid! You know better than that, Chewy!"

"_No! You know better than to trust Goober, but you continue to do so like a fool!" _Chewy yelled, changing the topic and rearing his beefy head. _"Don't tell me what I do or don't know better than you! I know plenty!"_

Jacoby hesitated to glare down at his pokémon. "We weren't talking about Goober."

Chewy's eyes darkened. His whiskers suddenly looked as sharp as knives. _"Now we are!"_

I scowled at them. Way to change the topic. Something told me this was a tactic Chewy was using to divert us completely from Poona. I wasn't going to let this work. However, I couldn't get a single word in. Jacoby kept talking as if he could sense I was about to steal the conversation back.

"Goober is staying apart of the team. Once a teammate, always a teammate. That's final."

"_I'm grateful to you for consulting me and the rest of this _'team_._'_" _Chewy was hissing at this point, baring his teeth. _"You're always considering our feelings, aren't you? The proud trainer always gets the final word, defying the feelings of his pokémon even when they may be more capable."_

"I…" Jacoby ran his hand back through his hair, placing the other hand shakily in his pocket, taken aback. "Chewy, I know you and the others don't think that Goober's good, but sometimes we have to do something we don't like. I want Goober to stay because the way I see it he's doing less harm with us than he is anywhere with anyone else." I could see he was trying to get away from the topic of training and being owned, but Chewy brought it right back in his face.

"_You may be my trainer, but you don't own me. Chelle doesn't own Poona either," _he snapped.

I was getting ready to attack the stupid rat again when his last sentence punched me in the stomach.

Of course I…didn't own Poona.

"Poona's…! She's…! I'm not…!" I wanted to defend myself and point out Poona had never been in a pokéball and I had never technically been her trainer, but I knew these words were only going to sound pointlessly didactic. Yes, I had considered Poona's feelings, but…I hadn't either.

Preen sat back thoughtfully, not really caring for the conversation. She pecked the door eagerly. _"Let's go!"_

"…" Jacoby recalled Chewy without saying anything. He looked at me, as if checking to see if I'd change my mind. Preen was authoritative and seemed to be set on the search, however.

I still wanted to look for her, but now I was hesitating. Should I respect her wishes? Chewy had said she would come back, and they were sort of…together. But she didn't even say goodbye! Something was wrong then…Poona was Poona, but this was unlike her.

Preen squawked and pecked me.

"OW! Whatthehellyoufreakingbird—"

"_You said she left without a goodbye?"_

I rubbed my shoulder vengefully. "Yeah."

"_That is despicable." _Preen's eyes flashed. _"Everyone deserves closure…don't you think?"_

I stared at her numbly. "…Yeah. You're right."

"_Then what are you waiting for?!" _She pecked me again, this time harder.

"OW! Fine, you bitchy bird!"

Preen and I burst through the front door. Jacoby followed wordlessly, looking oddly lost, like we needed to search for him, too.

Preen circled the skies. I went first for the route and looked through each patch of grass, bush, and tree. I encountered quite a bit of wild pokémon, but they fled at the sight of me. I didn't know why that was, but I blamed it on the fact they were frightened and weakened at the sight of foreign pokémon, which they were still receiving.

We had gone through the nearest routes and even traveled all the way over to New Bark Town. When it started getting late and the sun was way beyond being seen, we went back to the house in defeat.

Poona was gone, but now so was the fur.


	13. Somebody to Love

_13. Somebody to Love_

* * *

No one tried to stir me. Any time Poona was brought up as supposed inspiration for me to start training, I turned the suggestion flatly and hollowly down.

Yes, I know she had wanted me to start training. Yes, I know she wasn't going to magically come back and I should just move on with my life. Yes, I know that I had been successful with my first task by liberating my own pokémon and supplying her with freewill. I knew all of this.

But I didn't care. I _wouldn't_ care unless I had Poona, and she wasn't coming back. We didn't even know where she went and how she managed to sneak away so momentously.

I filled the void by locking myself in my room and sulking depressingly within my blankets. I didn't want to talk to anyone about it. The only person I had tried talking to about it was Sophie, but her cell phone still remained disconnected. I would immediately be redirected to some cell phone service about how the number no longer existed. So I stopped trying. Because of Poona's disappearance, the rescue mission plans had fallen flat. I could now only hope that Poona and Sophie would return so that I could move on with my life.

I had nobody. I was now completely friendless.

Elder Li tried stopping by to see me in my empty state to suggest I visit Sprout Tower. He had been thinking it would rejuvenate me. I somehow managed to reject him without insults or threats, which meant I had made some kind of moral progress from Poona's departure. Elder Li noticed this, too, because he complimented me about it, genuinely smiling about my cooperation, even if I had been declining him.

It had been two and a half months since Poona had left. I had mindlessly gone to school each day, frustrated by my loneliness and suffering through it in silence. This baffled my teachers quite a bit, but they didn't broach the subject of my odd behavior, probably because Mom and Dad had managed to explain what had happened without me realizing they had done so.

Jacoby still hung around as part of his promise—which he had undeniably been guilted into—to Mom and Dad to not leave until Trevor and I had both earned our licenses. While he was here, he went out each day to try and find Poona. Even though I acrimoniously discouraged him from doing so, deep down the desire to do the same weighed down on my heart. I didn't have the energy to restrict him completely, so I let him do whatever he wanted. He was going to do whatever he could to find Poona for me, and that was very touching.

The reasons behind his endless search I was still pondering. The argument he had with Chewy had obviously really affected him. He had been even quieter than Trevor since the conversation had happened. He still let Chewy roam around, but there was an unsolvable tension present that neither of them could let go of. I noticed that he was actually giving his pokémon more freedom now, letting them roam and wander about and asking for their input. Chewy had silenced his opinions since he had first expressed them, but he was always thinking. Jacoby and I could see that.

Trevor turned ten on May 3rd. We held a small, private celebration and began the countdown until the time when we were both able to earn our licenses. When that time came, Trevor and I passed the test easily. We could now march around with a small plastic card as evidence of our legitimacy. That would be dandy and all if I actually wanted to have one now.

Instead of smiling down at my notable triumph, I pocketed it disdainfully and crossed over into the summer without having much to say. Mom and Dad were ushering us to go on a journey at the same time and were already mulling over what pokémon they could get for the both of us. Jacoby even volunteered to fly out to capture some rare—but still young—pokémon. Despite this being an obviously sensitive issue for me, they were downright pushy about it and wouldn't listen to me when I declared indignantly that I didn't want any pokémon. I just wanted to stay home if I couldn't have Poona, who was rightfully my only possible starter.

A week after we earned our licenses, I came home to find a poliwag tied to the porch and a lone pokéball next to it. Trevor immediately made a grab for the pokéball, gleefully releasing a pidgey. The pidgey showed no resistance as it was vaulted into the air by Trevor's joyful arms. The poliwag struggled helplessly against the confinement of the leash, however, nearly battering itself against the wall. Even Keane would have been able to see that it didn't want to be here.

I was so incensed by its appearance that I yanked it toward me by the leash and reached down to unhook the collar.

"Chelle, don't! It took me _forever_ to get that one," Jacoby whined, grabbing me by the shoulder and forcing me back after emerging from the house. I spun on him, almost slashing him—and strongly wanting to—from the sharpness of the movement.

"You're so _stupid! _Do you really think I want another pokémon?" I screamed. "Is this poliwag named Poona? _No! _Do you honestly think I'd replace her? And wait, I'm supposed to give this thing a _choice_ before letting it go, right?" I didn't give him time to respond. I kneeled to the ground, asking the poliwag icily, "Do you want to be here? Do you want to be my pokémon?"

It shook itself so vehemently it was trembling. That was enough for me. I unhooked the collar, which enabled it to dash madly away, scurrying in the direction of the nearest pond. I ignored Jacoby's fallen look and Trevor's dispelled merriment by calmly walking away.

Maybe I _should_ begin training. It would distract me from how vacant I was feeling and give me a reason to stay in Violet City. I actually did want to stay now because I thought Poona might make some triumphant return. And Sophie _did_ promise she'd come and see me again someday. Even if her phone and mother were gone, that didn't mean she would be. These excuses were enough to last me for another year.

When I confessed what I wanted now to Mom and Dad, they didn't argue against my staying but did ask if I was feeling well. I didn't force a smile but assured them, in the most monotone way, that I was doing fine and just needed to do whatever I was supposed to do. They weren't convinced, but they did agree this was for the best. Maybe this way I would be rewarded with Poona's presence.

Elder Li, however, didn't agree. The day after my prolonged stay in Violet City was secure, I journeyed to Sprout Tower, only to be turned away by the very decisive monk. I didn't even make it through the door when Elder Li spun to see me and yanked me back to the bridge.

"What are you _doing_? I'm here to train!" I shouted. Wasn't this what he wanted?

He had lugged me all the way to the bridge before giving me a response. "You're not ready."

"But…but months ago, you said…you said I should start training!" I cried, utterly confused.

"That was months ago, when you were driven, when you had a strong will. Now your will has diminished so completely that it would be pointless to pursue your training now. Your spirit needs to be revitalized," he said dismissively. I knew what that meant.

I needed Poona back.

While I could have argued nastily back, I instead took his words carefully and used them to steer me in the direction of the routes I had trudged through numerous times. That was precisely where I was for my venture for today.

At first the grass was devoid of inhabitants until I examined it thoroughly and saw a few pidgey hopping out from their nest. Three sentrets—I noted miserably—were also roaming around the scattered patches, rolling amongst the swaying masses. All of them became aware of my presence simultaneously and then withdrew themselves, completely alert and mistrusting.

I held up my hands openly. "Look. No pokémon. I won't hurt you. Do whatever you were doing."

A few of the pidgey regarded me suspiciously, but for the most part the more trusting sentrets continued their blissful play. I watched them for a bit, bending down in the grass and stretching out my legs. They reminded me so strongly of Poona that it hurt to watch them, but I couldn't exactly leave them until I asked them some questions for some much needed answers.

"Hey…have any of you seen a furret? Named Poona?" I added, when they raised their heads quizzically in my direction.

I didn't know if the sentrets were old enough to begin talking because they just stared at me, probably willing me to go away. One of the more mature pidgeys flapped his wings slightly and gave me a stern expression.

"_No."_

"…Okay. Thanks," I said lamely.

I wanted to kick his nest as I was walking by, but I restrained myself by merely kicking dirt instead, striding in the direction of the small pond in the upper section of the route. When I bent down to peer in the water, I thought I saw the vague shimmer of a goldeen's scales, but I didn't have the motivation or desire to meddle with it. I stuck my finger in the water thoughtlessly, forming ripples that resounded and distended from my touch.

I didn't know what else to do. Something told me the other pokémon would be just as uncooperative and distrustful. It's not like I had shown up with the verve to battle and capture them as I had seen other trainers do earlier—young ten-year-olds who wanted nothing more than to be glorious and successful. I didn't think I'd ever been as annoying as they were with their liveliness, but Jacoby had assured me that I had been and still was. Jerk. I made sure to hide his pokémon again when he told me this.

I was still sticking my hands in the water and making shapes out of the newly formed ripples when a voice from behind alarmed me considerably.

"_What are you doing?"_

"Ahh!" I caught myself from taking a dive in the water. If I had been just an inch closer, I would have fallen in for sure.

I whirled around to eye one of the male sentrets I had seen earlier. He was staring at me thoughtfully and didn't seem to be astounded by my reaction or my presence.

"Ugh…you scared me. Don't do that," I said, pressing my hand over my heart and waiting for its beats to thrum feebly against my palm instead of the unsettlingly swift tempo it was currently catapulting at.

The sentret stared at me cautiously, conspicuously watching my hand. When I noticed how concentrated he was on it, I waved, hopefully disbanding his suspicions with the gesture.

"Hi. I said I wouldn't hurt you, didn't I?"

His tail swished from behind him, splaying the grass. _"You could be lying…You don't smell the way humans smell. You smell…funny."_

…Did he just say I smell funny?

What.

It felt like my look could start a fire. "You're the one to talk, little mister. You call that a tail? I call that a fail."

He stared. _"…You understand me. Humans can't normally understand us. Who are you?"_

"Just an awesome person." I took a step toward him, which he parried by taking one back. "Here, you want me to empty my pockets? I promise I don't have anything to catch you with."

I stuck my hands in each of my pockets, pulling out whatever objects were in them. I found things I had completely forgotten about and things that were new even to _me._ I didn't know how I had a harmonica or even a bag of corn. All I knew was I usually had some weird shit anyway; therefore, this shouldn't have surprised me.

After taking a notably long time to empty them all out, I held up the summoned objects and began to deposit them back into the holders on my belt.

"See? Nada." I placed my hands on my hips, leaning forward slightly accusingly. "Do _you_ have anything to capture _me_ with?"

He obviously didn't get the point of my teasing or that I was even teasing him to begin with. He looked startled at my suggestion and shook his head strongly, speaking with a steely voice to support him of his trustworthiness.

"_No! I wouldn't capture you! That'd be mean," _he declared.

"You're right, that would be mean," I agreed. I eyed him with as much caution as he'd had in the beginning. "Why did you come and find me, little sentret?"

He pawed the ground anxiously. _"I was curious…And now I'm even more so. How can you hear me?"_

"Oh yeah?" I wanted to talk about how curiosity killed the meowth, but then I realized that wouldn't help with my credibility as a nonviolent human being. Instead, I said, "It doesn't matter how I can understand you. Why were you curious?"

"…_You're looking for a furret?"_

My heart pounded a little too coarsely from his response. "Yes. Why? Have you seen one?"

He took a steady pause before nodding agreeably. I could have dove at him and shook the life out of him in utter relief, but I didn't. I rooted myself to the spot and tried to be a tree. Trees were calm, right? Quiet? I needed to be that way right now. I didn't want to scare him away.

"REALLY?" Tree power!

He nodded again.

"Where? Wheredidyouseeone? Can you lead me to the place? Please? Pretty please?" I was the worst tree ever. I sounded desperate, but I was at that point. He could sense that.

He regarded me doubtfully. _"Why do you want to see one so bad?"_

"My friend is a furret, and I have missed seeing her," I said, once again desperately.

He combed his tail with one paw while viewing me from the corner of his eye. He was hesitating. Did he not believe me? He had to show me before this furret moved from wherever it was!

"Do you know if its name is Poona?"

He shyly brought his gaze to the ground. _"I don't know…She's just 'Momma' to me."_

Oh. That deflated me a little bit. But who knows? Poona might have gotten busy, settled down with some kids. It was weird to think of her doing such things since she was still so young and hardly sophisticated enough to enter motherhood. Plus, I'd imagine she would have come to see me with her underlings if she did. That probably would have made me dance happily around the house with the news about being a grandmother, disregarding how elderly the title usually was and making me feel special for being one while still being so youthful.

I was so desperate at this point that I was willing to tackle any furret at the slim chance it might have been Poona. It didn't cross my mind that she had a thing going on with Chewy. I was currently suppressing that.

"Well, I'd be happy to meet your mother, just so I can see if she's my friend," I said willingly.

He still eyed me with about as much trust as he ought to toward a stranger. I gave him points for that, but I was getting fairly annoyed that he didn't trust me completely. My intentions were good, obviously, and I had already proven I wasn't out to capture him. How long was this going to take?

"…_Okay. Follow me."_

Well then. Not long at all.

It wasn't hard to keep up with him. It just took a lot of running through rows of trees and trampling through all kinds of bushes. Still, I had to make sure I didn't step on him. His stubby legs didn't take him as fast as Poona's did.

When we made it to our destination—which was a relatively open space with bushes surrounding a particularly bushy patch of grass—I spotted a rather large furret curled up on some twigs.

She didn't look particularly excited to see me, and my enthusiasm had already begun fading when I saw a lack of recognition in her eyes. After a brief moment of observation, I could even tell this wasn't my Poona. This furret's eyes were smaller, beadier and much bluer, with a weaker tail to boot. Poona's tail had been robust and massive with enough strength to support her long body. The furret I was staring at was longer than Poona, most likely fully grown, with a skinnier tail.

The furret responded to my presence by first finding her son and then glaring at me from a rough bush. _"…Chimley, get over here!" _she ordered. _"We do not associate ourselves with humans. You could have been caught. Or worse, killed."_

Chimley looked shrunken from this shrewd command and slunk to his mother before she could offer him more punishing words. He whispered something to her, probably in defense of my appearance, but she draped her tail sternly around him. I sighed, almost defeated at being unable to find my dearly missed pokémon.

"It's okay. I won't hurt you. I was just looking for a friend. She's also a furret."

The mother remained cautiously transfixed by my presence. She wasn't going to say or do anything until I was out of sight, it seemed.

Sighing again, I waved goodbye and ducked through some very tall bushes.

That is, I was going to, until I heard some frightened squealing from behind me.


	14. Time to Say Goodbye

_14. Time to Say Goodbye_

* * *

Immediately, I retraced my footing and whirled around to see a new pokémon, which had emerged from an alternate pathway—a radical rattata with its customary dark purple fur, swirly tail, and large teeth. The pokémon had thrown himself on top of the young sentret and now was fiendishly digging his outlandish teeth into the sentret's tail. The mother was trying frantically to get him off, going so far as to dig her own teeth into the rattata's fur. The pokémon responded by releasing his jawed grip and bucking the furret unsuccessfully off. It was obvious who would lose based off of size alone. The rattata was much smaller than the furret, though this possibly put him at an advantage, allowing him to swiftly escape incoming assaults.

I wanted to join the battle just so I could separate the mother and her son from the crazy rattata's clutches, but it was hard to follow what they were doing. They were attacking in vicious blurs, leaving no gaps and no safe opportunities. I could only stand there stupidly, gaping and trying to figure out how I could help the situation that I might have indirectly caused.

The mother was batting the persistent rat off well enough until a large, brown, and sleek bug-type pokémon with giant thorny pincers on top of its head bashed her into a tree, barring her back with its clawed limbs. Her son scratched at the pinsir and pounded it with his tail, but he was so frail that he didn't help much.

I was just about to step in when I saw a pokéball fly outward from the bushes. After hitting the mother atop the head, the ball opened up, as if getting ready to feast and sending out a tongue of light to taste the disheveled furret. She was engulfed in a white beam, which sucked her into the core of the contraption, closing instantly. The pinsir yielded to the ball's appearance, watching expectantly, while Chimley sat with his mouth agape.

When the pokéball shook three times to confirm the mother's capture, I heard a victorious cheer from the trees. I directed my gaze from the dumbfounded sentret to the newly arrived and obviously young trainer.

Th boy had a ruddy face and extremely short—practically shaved—blond hair. He was remarkably shorter than me, though that wasn't hard to achieve with how tall I was. He was wearing fairly clean clothes, which told me he had only begun his journey. No doubt he was on some kind of journey if he was hunting and catching pokémon. While the boy made such an appearance, Chimley attacked the ball, clawing at it desperately.

"_Mom! Can you hear me? Mom!"_

I was still gawking when the boy reached down and thrust the ball triumphantly up into the air.

"You did it, Louie!" he cried, dancing in place. I thought he had been praising his rattata or his pinsir, but he wasn't looking at any of his pokémon.

The rattata was breathing heavily, bleeding from several cuts the mother had inflicted upon him. The pinsir's eyes were piercing, but it looked indifferently away anyway, undaunted. It didn't seem like the boy noticed me yet, or the astonished sentret cowering by his feet.

"Thanks, Pinky," he added gratefully, this time to the wounded rattata, which he recalled within a pokéball.

…_Pinky_? For a rattata? It was too weird to even comment about, but this information was valuable enough to use as some form of blackmail, if necessary.

"Hey!"

He jumped at my exclamation, almost dropping the ball in his excitement. "Y-yeah? What?" He sounded harsher after getting over the initial shock, narrowing his eyes at me sturdily. "You wanna battle or somethin'?"

"No I don't want to _battle,_" I said venomously. I really couldn't tolerate little kids anymore, not since I'd been unable to become a trainer at ten. I supposed I was jealous of them in a way—jealous of them being so spoiled. I had been pampered, but I had never really been given a choice of what I wanted for my future. And this kid had a _pinsir_, a bug-type pokémon that was rare around this part of Johto—rare anywhere, just about—and definitely too dangerous for a kid as young as himself to handle. "Did you see what you just did?"

He obviously didn't see the blood on the tree or the still horrified expression on Chimley's face. He shrugged and cocked his head. "I just captured a furret. So what?"

"You just stole a mother from her child," I said flatly.

"Oh…" He peered at Chimley apologetically, bending down to pet the sentret atop the head. Chimley recoiled, repulsed rather than fascinated by the touch of his mother's captor. "I'm sorry, little guy…" I thought he was going to do something more, like release the mother, but instead he strode toward the bushes.

"Uh…where are you going?"

"I'm going to Violet City. Where do you think? The first gym's there, and I want to get my new furret to a Pokémon Center," he said, a little too cheerily for my tastes. He lifted yet another pokéball to recall his pinsir, resuming his walk out of the route.

"No you're not." I said it maybe a little too darkly because the boy froze to throw a bewildered glance over his shoulder.

"…Oh yeah? What is that supposed to mean?" He puffed out his chest challengingly.

"I'm saying you're going to let go of the furret, or I'll make you." I didn't know what had gotten into me all of a sudden. I just knew it was wrong that the little sentret had witnessed his mother's capture and had been almost hopeless to stop it. The little pokémon didn't deserve to be motherless from an event I might have accidentally spurred. The commotion could have occurred from my arrival, especially since I'd made a lot of noise while brushing past the bushes. I never saw where the boy, Louie, had come from after all.

"So what? You want to battle?" he asked again, a little too eagerly this time.

"No. Does it look like I have any pokémon?" I looked down at Chimley, who appeared more than ready to launch himself at the boy. He was too weak, however, because of his size and his new injury. There was no way I could use him if I did in fact want to battle this boy.

"…I guess not?"

"So then, no, I don't want to battle. I just want you to give the furret up." I crossed my arms firmly, trapping him under my glower.

Louie gave me a few more seconds before he spun around to resume his march to Violet.

Well, if he wasn't going to listen to me, there was always loudly and immaturely yelling. That was useful, too. It got people to listen and respond, if only to shut you up.

I waved my arms. "YOU FIEND! YOU MOTHER-STEALER! YOU GIRLY LITTLE BOY WITH THE RATTATA YOU GIRLISHLY NAMED PINKY! YOU FOOL-TOOL!"

He jumped a foot in the air with how boisterous my volume was. He almost stopped to cover his ears until finally directing a scowl at me.

"Stop yelling! Stop!" he shushed, and then retreated again. That didn't stop me. This time I annoyingly reduced my voice to whispers.

"Punk-ass sissy pants…Butt-faced fool…"

My whispers were grating and annoying, but he effectively ignored them with how limited they were to invasion compared to yelling.

I traipsed briskly after him until our paces were even. He sent me a scowl, clearly tired of my pestering.

"What? Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Release the furret and I will not take your pants."

"I—What?"

"You heard me. You like being pantless, kid? You like feeling _breezy_?"

"You're weird! Go away!"

"All you have to do is release the furret and I w-i-ll," I sang, immensely out of tune. Louie covered his ears.

"No! I caught it fair and square!"

This bickering continued until I realized he was too stubborn and stupid of a little kid to listen to me.

So I tackled him.

I had been feeling particularly feisty at that moment, and he had almost been _baiting _me with his qualms and complaints about me following him. It wasn't that I wanted to hurt him or had planned on it. I just wanted him to stop being so stubborn.

After I tackled him, I pinned him to the ground by slapping my hands down on his shoulders and straddling his waist with mine. That's when he started screeching and pleading endlessly for help. Since both of his pokémon were in their pokéballs, the kid literally had no assistance. He was trapped.

I offered him one last chance. "Release the furret…or you'll have to taste my spit."

He stared at me incredulously. It got him to stop squirming for about ten seconds. "…You're kidding."

"No. I'm not. But hey, I heard it's not so bad. Just a ton of germs. I think I might have forgotten to brush my teeth this morning," I noted, almost smirking at how much he started squirming. This was false, of course. I was extremely hygienic, but this dastardly kid didn't know that.

"Get off! Help! Someone!"

I hawked the spit in my mouth and aligned it so that it would fall into the perfect, grotesque strand. I was just opening my mouth to let it slide outward when Louie cried hoarsely, "F-fine! You win! I'll release the furret!"

I got up, dusting myself off and smirking victoriously. "Hey, at least you would have been able to say you'd gotten to French-kiss a girl, even if it was just tasting spit and I would have pummeled you if you had gotten within a yard of my tongue—" I didn't get to finish my teasing because he bolted off the marked pathway, failing to concede with his promise of letting the furret go. Little twit.

I chased him down so hastily that Chimley, being injured and significantly slower, couldn't keep up.

"Help! A crazy girl is chasing me!" he cried breathlessly.

"He deserves it!" I retaliated, defending myself to anyone—though probably no one—who was listening. "Don't listen to him! He named his rattata _Pinky_!"

"My _mom_ gave it to me! It's not my fault!"

"Momma's boy!"

Thankfully I was faster than him, with having longer, sturdier, and more experienced legs. I reached for him, but it was as if his body leaped to escape my range, his clothes being the only thing hardly compliant with his movement. I almost managed a decided grab when something chomped into my leg, biting directly through my boots.

I shrieked and did an exotic, showy dance as a woozy, imbalanced attempt to remove the predator. I fell and turned to see Louie's wounded rattata, Pinky, solidly gripping my leg with his teeth. In the midst of the blurred running, somehow I had missed Louie releasing his pokémon. It disgusted me that he had decided to release his _injured_ one, but I supposed this was either an act of mercy (Pinsirs didn't exactly hold back.) or an accidental summoning on his part.

When Louie saw I had been struck, he turned around to stand cockily in front of me, eyeing my wound without pity or sympathy.

"If you had left me alone, this wouldn't have happened."

"If you don't get your rattata off of me, I'll make it into a new pair of boots," I hissed in response. I was seriously considering that at this point since the rattata persistently hung on to my leg, wedged by the teeth into my skin. The bite was just shallow enough for me to tough it out, but deep enough for it to sting. I didn't know how the little guy managed to be as strong as he was; he looked ready to faint at any moment in time.

Louie smirked and just stared, waiting for an apology—one he'd have to fish out his own ass first if he wanted one from me. When my leg began getting wobbly from the bite, Chimley came to my rescue by tackling the rattata with enough strength to knock him off. I veered to regard Louie as my target, who suddenly looked unconfident and paler.

"Why…why don't you just leave me alone?" he cried, almost desperately.

"Because I don't like you," I replied simply. "And your rattata just ruined my boots." Not to mention it hurt like hell now that he'd let go.

"_Why_? What did I do to you?"

"I already told you what you did, you thick-headed nutso," I spat. Honestly, for a kid to be this thick he would have to be wearing a marowak skull over his own skull to explain why my words hadn't penetrated. That was an unreachable level of thickness.

The expression on Louie's face said that he had heard me loud and clear. He balled his hands into fists, while his green eyes seemed to flare.

"Look, I'm _sorry_ about the furret, but you have to move on," he said angrily. "We have to leave our own mothers because we can't stay with them forever. I feel bad about taking her away from her family, but now she gets to experience something else. We have to do things we don't want to do all the time. This isn't different. This is how life works. Nothing's new. Pokémon are captured everyday. It's the way it is. So just leave me alone, okay? I'll take care of her."

I hadn't expected this kind of wisdom. I would have been dumbfounded and generally immaturely mouthy back, but his words had struck me with an odd realization, one I should have received earlier.

If you love someone enough, you have to be willing to let them go. His words had applied to Poona without him even knowing about the situation. _I_ had been the bratty, stupid, and selfish one. I had been holding Poona back and really offering her no choice. Had I really suffocated her so much that she had to leave without saying goodbye though?

I swallowed hard and said, with gritted teeth, "Can you at least give them a chance to say goodbye?" After all, that's all I had really wanted. A proper goodbye.

Louie was sympathetic enough to do that. He released the furret, who was still marred from the earlier battle. She slouched onto Chimley, who whimpered at her appearance. She offered him comforting words and wrapped him lovingly with her tail, licking his face.

"_I will see you again, Chimley. Don't cry. I will always be with you, and most importantly, I will always love you."_

Her command to stop him from crying didn't stop him from crying, in fact. He buried his face into her fur and demanded that she stay with him, demanded that they fight back.

"_Fighting will take us nowhere. There may come a time of compromise, but it is not now. Go find your brothers and sisters. They will take care of you in my absence."_

It was weird how _accepting_ she was of this separation. It was as if this was another stage of life for the mother furret, a job she was required to take. There was a lot of emotion and hard feelings exchanged, but all the same she was very cooperative about it, despite the fact she had been so against humans in the first place.

When the goodbyes had been said and the love had been showered, Louie solemnly called back the furret and his now fainted rattata. He also looked like he was trying not to cry but hid his face well enough to not reveal this fact to me.

With Chimley standing tearfully beside me, I watched Louie trek in the opposite direction of Violet City ("Violet City is that way," I declared, pointing in the wrong direction. Yeah. Call me spiteful.), disappearing somewhere along the winding path. I watched until he was a speck in the distance. Chimley was still sniffling when Louie was completely gone. I merely bent to the ground, using my presence to comfort him. I didn't think petting him was a good idea. I wasn't sure if he'd find that demeaning or not. Instead, I just sat next to him.

Eventually, Chimley skidded through the bushes without saying anything, still crying profusely.

What could I do? Was stuff like this really meant to be?

I tried looking for Chimley after he fled, but it was lunchtime and my stomach was rumbling enough to generate a gross desire to roast even some pidgey I was coming across. This is when I gave up and went back home so that I could stuff my face until I was either full or obese.

While exiting the route, I mulled over today's events. Elder Li had claimed I wasn't ready and required motivation. I had witnessed a mother furret being taken from her son sentret, who was now completely distraught. And I was still nowhere close to finding Poona. It was obvious to everyone that I wasn't making any progress. How was I meant to when I didn't have my starter?

I could have just been going about it the wrong way. What choice did I have, however? How was I supposed to handle this responsibility? With Poona gone, I wasn't going to turn into a pokémon. I wasn't allowed to use pokéballs, so I couldn't be an official trainer. And I had just tried to get a boy younger than me to release a pokémon, but he had continuously refused, even after such a touching goodbye. What was I supposed to do?

My thoughts were interrupted from the pain in my leg. It was a very sharp feeling, with a continuous throbbing that wouldn't leave. With every move I made, the pain worsened. That was when I decided the Pokémon Center would be my best bet, as I definitely required some bandages and disinfectants. Finally, after several minutes of stiff limping, I made it to the entrance of the Pokemon Center in time to see a stranger enter the edifice.

Violet City only experienced amateur visitors usually, young kids beginning their journeys, gearing up to battle Falkner in all of his feathery glory. This newcomer, however, didn't look like a newcomer. He looked like someone with experience, a young professional of sorts. Maybe it was because of how elegantly he walked, upright and formal. He was even wearing a suit. I couldn't tell if this meant he was a dork or a badass.

Truth be told, this didn't interest me. He was probably the arrogant, anything-you-can-do-I-can-do-better type, and those kinds of attitudes just made me want to pants said individuals. However, his formal attire and presence alerted me to the fact he was probably carrying valuable possessions. It was my duty as an innocent bystander to deliver these possessions from potential evil and give them a better home.

I tiptoed inside as if he could sense I was following him and sidled along the wall. If I was going to be inconspicuous, I was going to do the whole she-bang. In doing so, I allowed my focus to slide around the room in an attempt to act casual.

There was a gathering of kids, of course, in front of the television hanging widely on the right wall. Louie wasn't in sight, luckily for him. Some people were on the PCs in the back, while several were talking with the nurse. The atmosphere was so noisy and excited that I figured it wouldn't be hard to be unseen or unheard. The boy extended two handfuls of pokéballs to the nurse, who happily handed them to a nearby chansey.

I dropped the sneaky act and flounced up to the counter, just in time to hear something that paralyzed me to the spot.

"I'm not indigenous to this city, but I'm currently seeking the Faraday residence, if you have the haziest idea of its location."


	15. Discombobulate

_15. Discombobulate_

* * *

I'd never been pinned by a total stranger to the wall, but I knew how it felt to be the stranger in that scenario. It helped that I was a few inches taller than him and naturally strong.

"Whoareyouandwhosentyou?" I was attempting my mind-control abilities when I realized I didn't have any. This made my act of being extremely close to his face seem really creepy and weird. I noted this as I drew my face back a bit, obtaining a more detailed glimpse of the stranger.

His hair was dark and tangled in a way that implied he never brushed it. This deviated a bit from the fancy impression he gave, but he was still well-dressed, with a black and gray suit to contrast with his light tan skin. Additionally, his eyes were brown and wide, although narrower than most individuals I had seen. His face was angular, accentuated by his well-defined, pointy chin, long curving nose, and long eyelashes. He was awkwardly lanky and skinny, which was perhaps why he was so weak. There was no evidence of shock. Instead, his mouth was pressed into a line, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration rather than bafflement.

"While I find the closeness flattering, this introduction is strange, even for me." He tried pushing me off, but couldn't manage even a light shove from my monstrous grip.

"How do you know about Sophie?" I demanded. "Tell me before I lick your face."

"Rochelle! Don't be so rude! You're starting a scene!" One of the nurses came up from behind me and tried yanking me off. I ignored her until she started tickling me, causing me to convulse into giggles, resulting in the removal of my hands.

The guy didn't bolt. He just stared at me and stepped away from the wall, patting at his suit and smoothing out the wrinkles. He didn't look annoyed or piqued as I expected a snotty person to be at this unexpected occurrence. He supplied a laidback demeanor, studying me perceptibly.

"Your obsessed and impetuous concern indicates you're a close companion of the Faradays."

"Yep! I used to break into their house from time to time," I said triumphantly. His appearance may not have been very elegant—his suit actually looked pretty tattered, smudged by dirt and a lack of care—but he talked as if he owned a mansion. However, I didn't let this fanciness smother me. I was determined to stand strong in the face of this stranger, who needed to see Sophie or Ms. Faraday, for whatever reason.

The nurse, taken aback by my confession, laughed nervously and added, to assure him that I wasn't a convicted criminal, "She's the best friend of Sophie Faraday, who went out to be a pokémon trainer years ago. Is there some business that you have with the Faradays?"

He leaned closer in my direction, pinning me with his eyes. The sudden interest flickering in them had cooled the brown to soft copper. "A pugnacious, fatuous girl with no recognition of boundaries…"

I swatted my arm outward, effectively throwing him back one step as my fist plowed into his chest. "I could say the same about you, Creeper Peeper. Now what's with you and the Faradays? Do you know Sophie?"

He regained his stance, looking flatly at the ground with an unaffected—not even a bemused—expression. "…Ow." He faced me promptly—almost too quickly. It was as if he was timing his words and needed everything to be stated at a certain time. "As I was saying. While I always intend to share personal information with litigious assaulters, I'd prefer to relay this message independently to Sophie's guardian," he said. The sarcasm was so subtle I had to listen very carefully in order to decipher it.

The nurse's eyes widened as she spluttered, "W-well, you see, Sophie's mother, Annie Faraday, was—"

"Murdered. Yes, I understand. From your tone and dialogue, she has no further relatives—at least none publically stated. Then I bequeath these words to you, Rochelle Worley: your friend, Sophie Faraday, is in danger."

I knew it. I debated immediately bolting to my house to gather supplies so I could leave this place, but the shock had numbed my legs. I was rooted to the spot, and the weakness in my knees was bringing me to the ground. If Ms. Faraday was dead…what did that mean for Sophie, who was undoubtedly in danger?

Wait. This guy knew my name.

He knew that Ms. Faraday had been murdered.

He knew my name.

Who was this guy?

I went through every response I could think of in my head. My best involved me declaring him a suspect and potential murderer and then detaining him until the police arrived. Tackling him from the front would be advantageous, but my leg was still bleeding, and the weakness was starting to dishevel my stance. I couldn't put up enough strength to keep this guy still enough to answer my questions. Maybe the other kids in the center could help, while the nurse called the police…

"Continuing my thoughts from earlier...Your behavior, when comparing you to the descriptions the original messenger provided me, indicates you are the intractable individual known as Rochelle Worley. Yes, I had determined this from our first interaction, when I saw your blond hair. She had mentioned this…"

She? "Who is 'she'?" I demanded shortly. I was practically frothing at the mouth. It had to be Sophie. She had probably sent this guy back to recruit assistance. It was a little uncharacteristic of her since Sophie was always so independent, but I hadn't talked to her in so long that it was possible something had changed in the time we were separated.

"One moment, I'm forgetting something…Ah, yes." His gaze traveled around the room with unerring interest. It was as if every object his eyes landed upon was something new to him, though I didn't know whether he was interested or just desperate to relieve himself of boredom. It was almost like he had split his attention in half and was devoting half of it to me and the rest to his wandering thoughts and eyes. "I had witnessed the Faraday residence when entering the city. Inquiring to random citizens throughout the city allowed me to pinpoint its location—though, I must say, you live amongst very superstitious residents. Only one would be willing to point me in the proper direction, as others regarded my interest as an omen.

"I uncovered the dark meaning behind the police tape almost instantaneously upon seeing it. The absence and notable vacancy in and around the home showed, but I thought maybe Sophie would have an additional relative in the city, which is why I came here—not only to inquire about an additional Faraday residence, but to also get my pokémon healed."

He turned to me, half-smiling at my noticeable impatience and sudden twitchiness. "Revisiting your earlier question: She didn't offer me a name, but there were some very distinctive aspects of the girl's appearance." Maybe he was referring to Sophie's accessories, which were made from real pokémon. That would certainly catch anyone's attention.

However, it wasn't what I was expecting. "What I can recall directly is that she had wild lavender and orange hair, with glasses over her eyes and band-aids covering her face. Additionally, her clothes were very extreme, mismatched fashions that drew attention rather than deterred it."

The first thing I did was scramble through the descriptions that matched his. There was only one I could think of.

Henrietta.

Had she been with Sophie? No, Sophie would have told me…and she didn't necessarily forgive Henrietta either. Sophie had trouble forgiving traitors. She actually would have shunned Henrietta if she had encountered her. Then how was Henrietta aware of Sophie's predicament?

"She's, conclusively, another friend of yours—most likely not Sophie, due to the freedom this girl exercised at the time I encountered her. Though she didn't properly introduce herself—despite my indulgent insistence—I now know she is a member of the Johnson family, as she had instructed me to check on two families alongside the Faradays: the Johnsons and the Worleys. She was able to provide me with a description of the Worleys—a family of blond-haired persons with a particularly rash, impulsive female—and a description of the Johnsons as well. This was how I was able to deduce your identity."

The nurse and I were both stunned, but I thought the nurse was more stunned by the fact I wasn't responding yet. It was true. I was sinking to the bottom of a still silence and struggling within inactivity wrought from the shock of hearing that not only did Henrietta still care and that she still _existed_, but that she was aware that Sophie was in danger and had likely been in contact with her at some point.

"You speak very eloquently," the nurse complimented, eyeing me for a curious, short moment with her soft green eyes before transferring them to the boy. "It seems you were given a great job in coming here. Would you like to rest, dear? The Center is open for all trainers."

"Any sort of relaxation or somnolence is deadening to my senses and mentality. No, I'd prefer to fulfill what I came here for and derail the enigmas surrounding these strange occurrences." He finally—after examining the room thoroughly from a single standpoint—made eye contact with me. The gleam in them was suddenly fictitious to me—a false sincerity. This dude had other intentions, I was sure of it.

I lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. My whole body was on fire. It felt like the worry had impaled me, weakening my position further.

Before I even knew what I was doing, I was running, leg injury aside. It could not ail me in that moment. The guy yelled for me to halt and continued to do so as he pursued me out the door.

I didn't stop until something tackled me from behind. I rolled into the ground and blinked, registering the sky above me and the head of a very peculiar pokémon, with what appeared to be a red hat as part of its head. Its black eyes were very cross as it stared me down, and its white arms proved to be incredibly strong as it pinned me by the shoulders into the ground.

"Thank you, Virchow," the guy spoke from somewhere ahead of me. Now he sounded breathless. "I apologize for the ruthlessness, but if you're going to flee without thanks or explanation I implore you to reconsider."

"Get your medicham off of me," I ordered bitterly. Its puffy red pants were heavier than they appeared and seemed to be the bulk of what was holding me down. Being a psychic, I think the medicham heard my thoughts loud and clear and figured I was calling it fat. The glare on its face was impenetrable.

"You've broadened your leg injury," he commented. "If you're really planning on fleeing upon your release, then there's really nothing I can do about it. However, you must know you're more prone to infection due to greater exposure that a larger wound imposes."

I stopped struggling, pouting pettily in response. "Why can't you just go away? Why do you care so much?"

"She wanted me to check and make sure these families were safe." Was there a reason that they shouldn't be safe? Beads of sweat were accumulating all over my body. The worry was making me want to get up and run again.

"They're fine," I said, after a pause. "Just fine. So get. It. Off."

"I was entrusted with this wholly, and I long to seek the conditions of these families to assuage my battered conscience—"

"Why you, huh?" I interrupted curtly. The medicham tightened its hold on me in caution. "You're a complete stranger. Henrietta is smarter than trusting some random guy to check over her friends and family. What do you want? What are you really after?" I was beginning to think that this guy was dangerous, too—that he was somehow related to Ms. Faraday's murder.

He finally came into view to where I could see him. He looked down at me thoughtfully and waved his medicham off. I arose slowly, watching him warily.

"I'm repaying a debt," he decided upon. "I was in an inopportune place with a morbid state of mind, and Henrietta spared me from death. In exchange, I was to come to Violet City, survey the conditions of the families, and deliver the message about this girl named Sophie. I'm fulfilling this debt now."

"Henrietta spared you? Was she going to kill you?" I asked in intrigue. Henrietta wasn't capable of killing anyone, not even out of anger. Why would she have to attack anyone anyway?

"No. There were others, with malevolent intents. She saved me, which is why I'm here. But I'm too late." He was somber now, but his expression lacked the regret that his tone implied. "I was supposed to come here in March."

March? It was currently May 18th. Where the hell had this guy been?

"Wow. Are you always this fashionably late?"

His mouth pressed into a firm line. "I had some personal issues to deal with. I hope my tardiness didn't negatively impact this outcome of events." He clapped his hands together so suddenly I actually flinched a little. "No further dalliance. You need to receive treatment. Then we'll discuss what each of us know."

I wasn't going to bargain with this guy. I didn't trust him, and I certainly didn't want him anywhere near my family or Henrietta's. So what was I supposed to do?

If he was supposed to come here in March…That was when Ms. Faraday's body had been discovered and when those mysterious messages were left on the answering machine. March 7th and 9th were the dates…

"When did you run into Henrietta? Do you remember which day?"

"March 17th. If you return to the treatment center in a pacifistic manner, we could negotiate," he offered.

Negotiate? Negotiate _what_? I wasn't up for negotiations. If this guy knew me _at all_, he would know that.

"Okay then. Let's negotiate!" I exclaimed, smiling mischievously. "You let me go and you get to keep your man-parts." For emphasis on how much damage could be done, I lifted my knee sharply. I was back on the ground in under two seconds.

"_You're not touching him," _Pow-wow-somethin' said menacingly. Her glare was boring into mine.

"Like I could ever hurt you anyway with your fat pokémon here," I said, returning the glare with equal malice and sticking my tongue out for good measure. The medicham spitefully made herself heavier, bearing down on my leg more weightily than before. I gritted my teeth, though I finally just released a small cry of pain when I realized the pokémon could read my thoughts anyway. Yep. Definitely fat.

The dude placed one hand in his pocket and consistently clacked his tongue to sound like a clock, for some odd, unexplainable reason.

"…Since you remained lackadaisical in your efforts of unveiling my name, I will introduce myself: Corwin Delbert. I doubt you'll regard me as trustworthy, but you might as well remain aware of my identity to ascertain myself from others."

"You talk like you're sixty." Reminded me of Sophie in a way, but I didn't mention this out loud. "I don't care who you are or what you do. I still don't know you, and your pokémon is holding me hostage here. Not very polite if you ask me."

He scratched the back of his head, mopping his hair into further disarray. "Since I have only worsened the situation, I'll go. Thank you for your time, no matter how unhelpful it was—"

His medicham flew off of me suddenly, arms traveling in a circular motion. I stared at her in wonderment until I saw a large tawny bird land from in front of me and squawk threateningly. I was never happier to have PMS than in this moment.

"Rochelle!" Jacoby reached me just as I jumped to my feet. He grabbed my arm and looked me over. "Are you okay?" He scowled at Corwin and Bow-wow. "Who is this guy and what is he doing to you?" At Jacoby's appearance, the medicham looked as if she was internally speaking to Corwin, as her gaze hovered intensely over her trainer.

Corwin held up his hands in mock-surrender. "I understand you're Rochelle's brother. I meant no harm. Virchow was only defending me."

Jacoby spun on me accusingly. "Mom told you not to harass or take from random strangers!"

Of course he didn't take my side. "He attacked me first! Plus I didn't even touch the dwarf."

"Dwarf?" Corwin echoed. "I'm five feet, five inches. I hardly qualify as a dwarf. Perhaps you qualify as a nincada since you seem to be as blind as one."

Ignoring his correction, I continued, "He's been in contact with Henrietta apparently. He came to check on us, the Johnsons, and the Faradays."

"Henrietta?" Jacoby studied Corwin carefully. "The girl who stopped talking to you? And what does he have to do with the Faradays?"

"She's one of them, yeah," I replied sourly. "And I was right! Sophie _was_ in danger!"

Jacoby already knew what I meant by this. He shook his head at me strictly. "You can't leave just yet, Rochelle. I know you want to find her and make sure she's okay, but there's a lot you have to do. You have to get a pokémon first—"

"But I can't own or capture them, remember? There'd be no point. I was sort of hoping…" I didn't say it, but Jacoby knew what I meant.

"I know it's hard without Poona," he said sympathetically, "but there are others out there. You know that. Maybe you can get someone to come with you. Not all pokémon will follow without pokéballs, but some might."

I was about to retort when I realized fully what he was saying. The sentret that I had met today…Chimley. He would come, right? If he was alone now…couldn't he come willingly? Or had he retracted his trust for humans?

"There is one…"

"Really?" I almost slapped my forehead at how incredulous Jacoby sounded at my response. He had said everything to encourage me initially, yet his statement made his words seem frail now.

"Shut up, Jacoby."

"Which one?"

"Tell you later." I faced Corwin. "If I lead you to the Johnson's, will you leave me alone?"

"Agreed," he replied, looking between me and Jacoby quietly. I had the feeling he and his medicham had been exchanging dialogue within their thoughts.

"Fine." I was about to walk in the direction of Henrietta's house, when Jacoby grabbed my hand. I looked at him flatly. "You choose now to be sentimental?"

"How much did you question him?" he whispered, after rolling his eyes. "Did he tell you where he last saw Henrietta?"

Wow. That was a good point. I was so caught up in the fact that Henrietta still cared about her family and me that I hadn't thought of where she'd be.

I turned sharply toward Corwin once again. "Hey. You."

"Corwin."

"So, Bilbo—" Jacoby snickered a little, while Corwin made another clock noise. "Where did you see Henrietta?"

At my question, he paused. Why was this hard for him to answer?

"I journeyed directly from Goldenrod City," he replied tentatively.

Goldenrod was pretty close. The last time I had talked to Sophie she had been in Goldenrod, where she had been investigating the terrorist attacks. Were Sophie and Henrietta even still there if he had talked to Henrietta in March? Why was Henrietta so nearby? Shouldn't she have traveled all over at this point?

Sophie had been investigating the attacks while she was in Goldenrod. With how smart Sophie was, she had undoubtedly uncovered something. She had encountered trouble of her own accord, and now her curiosity had endangered her. I needed to find her. And I needed to find Henrietta, to uncover her true motives.

As I was turning, I felt myself go down. My body was very flimsy in that moment, bizarrely flexible. My leg was ravaged with piercing pain. The blood had seeped through my boots completely, darkening the blue material with a red splotch. Jacoby immediately came to my side.

"What the hell, Chelle?" He pulled me up, studying my leg worriedly. "Where did you get that? Did he give you that?" My brother accusingly looked at Corwin, earning a snarl from Pow-chow, which prompted a threat from PMS.

"Stupid kid in Route 31," I mumbled.

"This is why you don't harass anyone, like Mom sai—"

"Damn it, Jacoby! Just take me to the center."

"_You could be more considerate,"_ PMS remarked snappily, pecking him in the shoulder. She still tried to keep her eyes fixed on Bow-pow, but she was intent on being defensive in more than one way. _"She's wounded. What kind of a creature picks on an injured one?"_

"A twisted one," I replied with a smirk.

"If I'm so twisted, I should just let you fall."

"_Then I'll have to give you a matching injury on your leg,"_ Preen threatened. Ever since Poona had left, Preen had been extremely kind toward me. I didn't know if it was because she had probably gone through a similar situation or if she actually liked me. In any case, I liked the empathy. It didn't make me feel so alone.

"Why do girls always team up?" Jacoby complained.

As Jacoby dragged me to the center, Corwin strolled in silence, staring at me curiously while most likely having a conversation with his medicham in his head. I knew this wasn't a good thing, so I kept threatening him obscenely, eventually causing him to look in other directions instead. The medicham continued to give me the meanest expression it could manage, which just made it look stupid.

When we reached the center, the nurse calmly began treatment with the help of her chansey, taking me into a private room that was away from all the noise. She first secured the wound with gauze to prevent any more blood from pouring out. While this was happening, Corwin and Jacoby remained in the other room, chattering enthusiastically. With how intelligent Corwin seemed, I doubted Jacoby was contributing very much.

I didn't realize I was falling asleep until I felt a sharp stinging in my leg, jolting me awake.

"Thathurtlikeabitch—"

"Sorry! Almost done! And please watch your language!" She wrapped my leg hurriedly. "I applied some helpful disinfectant. It's going to sting for a while, but this will only help you in the long run."

She sat back crossly, placing her hands on her hips. As she did so, I finally noticed that her brunette hair was bound in a long, single braid, which settled against the white fabric of her uniform. I was pondering whether I could braid my hair like that when she started talking. "Do _not_ exert yourself, which means no running." Like that was going to happen. "Get plenty of rest. You lost some blood. Give your body time to replenish itself. Eat plenty of food." That wasn't going to be a problem. "And, I can't stress this enough, _do not exert yourself_."

"You said that already. And it's not like I'm going to die."

"You actually could."

I blinked slowly. She laughed after failing to keep a straight face.

"Just kidding! You should be fine. But please don't test your body's limits. I know how you are."

I stood quickly—a little too quickly for the nurse's tastes because she started scolding me. Once I was done with the umpteenth lecture of today, I exited the room and journeyed back to the center's lobby. Jacoby stared at my leg with approval. The gauze was restricting to some of my movement, making me more rigid than I liked.

"So tell me again how you got that?"

That's when I gave a dramatic retelling of my encounter with Chimley, Louie, and Pinky. I elaborated on Louie and how stupid, selfish, and spoiled he was. I mentioned Pinky and how with the last of his strength the rattata had bitten into my leg out of loyalty toward his trainer. Lastly, I emphasized Chimley's trauma and brokenness. Jacoby and Corwin listened—Jacoby with a blank expression, Corwin with various. When I mentioned the complete separation of Chimley and his mother, Preen swelled fervidly, nearly flying to the ceiling at how dangerously fast she was flapping her wings. Bow-chow didn't seem to care, or at least wasn't flaunting her sympathy.

"That's intense. I'm thinking you should go find Chimley before he's untraceable," Jacoby suggested. "Poor guy."

Corwin surprisingly didn't say anything. He was nodding, but I didn't think it was in response to what Jacoby said. His face was tense with concentration. I opened my mouth to suggest that Corwin stop getting lost in his thoughts—or else I'd tell _him_ to get lost—when he spoke.

"I confess: I do not trust your judgment, so I would like to see the Johnson's house for myself."

I stared at him and then hobbled to my feet, waving my arms for balance. "I don't trust you either, so…no. It's really not that hard to just take my word for it and then leave."

"While I don't normally admit to a situation's difficulty, I must compare the difficulty of taking your word for it to you actually acting humane." There was a slight smile to his face; it was the half-smile he had used earlier when he was relaying his deductions. I didn't like it.

I faced him with a scowl-pout. It must have looked unattractive because he cringed.

"On second thought, I'll take your word for it just so I don't have to see that again."

I thwacked him on the cheek with my fingers before striding—with Jacoby hovering closely by me—out of the center, giving the nurse one last goodbye with the assurances I would be following—excepttotallynot—her instructions.

"I already made that deal with you earlier, Bilbo. I'll take you to Henrietta's house, but after that, I don't want to see you. I want you to go find your pot of gold using your lucky charms—if you can even reach any of it." I started marching in the direction of Henrietta's house, when Jacoby snatched my arm.

"Chelle. You're not taking this guy. I got him. I know the way to Henrietta's."

I gave him a look. "Sometimes you get lost in our own house."

"Only because I sometimes wake up in the wrong room. How do you move me anyway?"

"Lots of practice, trust me. If you were a potato, you'd be the heaviest potato in the world."

Jacoby gave a mock-pleased thank-you. "That was the best compliment I've ever gotten from you. Isolation's made you nicer."

"I can still pummel you into the ground right here and now," I replied, placing my hands on my hips. "I found the dude first. Finders keepers."

"I don't want him. I just don't want you to be alone with him."

"Then come along and stop being such a priss about everything."

I veered around and continued to march by bringing my knees high up into the air and swinging my arms rhythmically. I ignored the slight pains in my leg from this act and tried to focus on how cool the action appeared. Jacoby let PMS stay out, who continued to squawk and keep Bow-chow at bay. Corwin had been socializing with his pokémon until he had seen us move. Then he followed determinedly and tried several times to strike a decent conversation.

"I had meant to travel here earlier, but the weather was atrocious. At one point there was a lockdown on the city," he remarked. "From the hapless appearance of things, I assume similar procedures were attempted but unenforced."

If there had been a lockdown in Violet City, we hadn't heard of it. Trainers had still been coming and going. Apparently the weather had worsened in other areas, but we had remained unaware of it. Since March, Violet City had been calmer. If there was rain, it was very light, but mostly sunny skies shined down on us. If only I had felt as bright as the city during the time.

"Nope."

"Perhaps it was unnecessary, with how mundane this city is in comparison," he continued.

I looked at him flatly. "Bilbo."

The tick-tock noise again. "Corwin."

"Why are you still talking?"

"I'm not normally gregarious; I'm socially inadequate, in fact. However, I was overcome with a desire to redeem my earlier behavior—"

"Through pointless conversation? Not helping."

The silence didn't even last for one second. At this point, I doubted that the guy even _breathed_.

"I have a penchant for remaining astute and garrulous in the company of unfamiliar people—although I never have reservations even in the face of familiars. However, I also have—"

"SHUT YOUR TRAP."

We made it to Henrietta's house amazingly unscathed—amazing for Corwin, since I wanted to rip his tongue out on several occasions. I gestured to the house.

"There. You came. You saw. You know the Worleys are cool, too. So you can leave now."

He nodded once after briefly pausing. "If you desire my company—which, if what I sense from you is true, you will—I will be at Sprout Tower."

…He wanted to visit the monks? What for?

"Hold it. Why in hell would you want to go there?"

"The ancient structure fascinates me. I read about the happenings of the tower and caught a glimpse of it when entering the city but swore to myself I would explore its innards at a later time. Now would be later, and—"

"OKAY. I get it. Go away, or I really will lick your face, you dumbball." The guy was alarmingly scholarly, talking and dressing so formally it was as if he was from another era.

He paused, as if he was going to say something, but refrained himself. He nodded to his medicham, who scanned each of us defensively before dropping her protective stance. Bilbo and Chow-wow walked wordlessly in the direction of Sprout Tower, following the indicated pathway.

"Surprised that you're just going to let him go," Jacoby commented, when they disappeared from sight.

"Like that's a shock? The dude was annoying and stupidly smart."

"Nice oxymoron, moron. So what if he was smart? He saw Henrietta, didn't he? You haven't seen your friends in years. He even reminded me of your friend Sophie."

It irked me to hear that comparison, even though I had been thinking the same thing. "You hardly know anything about Sophie. You had, what, one conversation with her? And just because he saw Henrietta doesn't mean he's super special."

"I wasn't trying to get on your nerves, okay?" He opened and closed his mouth dumbly, struggling with his words, before confessing under his breath, "I'm worried about you."

Unthinkingly, I slapped him on the cheek. It was a reflexive thing that I thought would help to eliminate the seriousness from the conversation. It actually had the opposite effect.

Jacoby scowled at me in response. "What. The. Hell. I show some concern, and that's what I get? I _am_ worried about you, okay? We all are. I'm tired of you shitting all over me, Mom, Dad, Trevor…just because Poona's gone and you can't be a trainer. Yeah, it sucks, but if you're not going to invite anyone to this pity party of yours, then maybe we shouldn't worry about you. You can deal with it yourself, but if you're going to go find Sophie, you have to at least tell Mom and Dad and get yourself a pokémon. I won't come with you if you continue acting like this, so you're going to need someone who wants to be there for you."

I fell into a thoughtful silence in which my mixed feelings of irritation and guilt clashed within my head. Maybe Jacoby was a little right. Just because I felt down didn't mean I had to bring everyone else down with me. But if they didn't experience what I was experiencing, how would they understand my perspective? Poona had left without a word. I didn't know where she was, what she was doing, or if she even still cared about me. What were her true feelings? Had she wanted to be with me, or was I holding her back without her consent?

Jacoby was staring at me stonily and looked as if he was going to go back to our house. I needed to say or do something fast, something that would show that I realized I was acting like an asshole.

I slapped myself. I could feel the force of it burning my skin red.

Jacoby was blinking steadily when I looked back at him.

"There." I stared without a word, hoping he got the message.

He smirked. "Apology accepted."

"Good. I would run if I were you."

He paused to debate whether he should start. "Why?"

I suddenly reached toward his face and squeezed his nose with two of my fingers. "Because I got your nose!" I squealed and ran away in the opposite direction.

Jacoby didn't protest to this and didn't talk me down about my immaturity. He actually appeased me by chasing after me. This was the most playful I had been in months, so he didn't object to this random and generally weird behavior.

I ended the chase when I saw a familiar person heading toward the western exit of town—a girl whose thick curly brown hair bounced on one side of her head while her stick-figure, clothed in red and gray, walked stiffly by.

"Lil! LIL! Lilly-billy-silly-filly—_Oof_!"

Jacoby crashed into me from behind in a dedicated effort to retrieve his nose. With Preen purposely colliding into his back, this created a domino effect. We plummeted coarsely into the ground. I scrambled to my feet, nose still in possession.

"—dilly-nilly-milly-tilly—"

At my continuous calls, she froze and turned, just as I tackled her to the ground.

"OW! Stop it, Rochelle!" She squirmed and tried shoving me off. I grinned at her stupidly.

"Whatcha _doin'_, Lil?"

Lillian cringed after I had gotten up off of her, clutching her shoulder hurtfully. "That's going to leave a bruise…" She sounded so much like Henrietta when she spoke it was shocking.

When she stood up, I planted my hands on my hips and kept talking. "_Hey._ Answer me. Where are you going? And have you talked to Henrietta at all over the years?"

She looked a little sad when I brought her up, but refused to let this show too much. "No. Mom and Dad have been worried sick. They asked me to look out for her when I leave."

"…Oh." I could have thumped my head at my slowness. Of course Lillian was leaving to become a trainer. She was the same age as Trevor after all. "So what's your starter?"

"A clefairy. I've already beaten Falkner," she announced proudly. She adjusted the bow in her hair, smiling smugly. Her freckled cheeks reddened naturally, reminding me yet again of her sister. If her brown eyes required glasses, she would match her sister exactly. "He was really easy."

"Your parents really like to give you guys pokémon that aren't from around here, don't they?"

"Mmhm. What's up with you, Rochelle?" Lillian asked politely. She didn't seem to care, but at least she was demonstrating her manners.

"Eh, just being awesome." I struck a pose for emphasis, wobbling from the rickety strength of my wounded leg. "Can I have your number so that we can keep in touch?" I had never talked to Lillian much before, but I thought maybe she could make up for her sister's failure as my friend. I wasn't even sure if she liked me, but I'd take what I could get.

Surprisingly, she agreed. She grabbed a paper from her backpack and started writing her number down.

"This is the right number," she said, a little bitterly. Apparently she was still holding a grudge over Henrietta's head like I was.

"Good. Whoop your sister's ass when you see her...and then cut her hair and hold it for ransom. Once you've done that, you should probably try to glue it back on her head just to be nice. She probably won't like that though, so you're going to need to make a necklace out of it instead and sell it to some hairless orphans. Try to avoid the monks; they're hair enthusiasts—"

"Seriously, do you have medication or something? I don't even know what you're talking about."

I stared at her with a seemingly blank expression before giving her a hug. She didn't pull away and actually returned it, probably to get me to let go early. Should I have told her about Bilbo and his message? I debated about it in my head. I _could_ give her information about Henrietta's possible location…

"I'll definitely kick her butt, but the hair thing's too weird for me." She pulled away and twiddled her thumbs in the customary fashion that her sister was known for. "Could you give Trevor my number, too?"

"Trevor?" For some reason, it took a while for my brother's name to register. When it did, my face lit up with a smirk, and I poked Lillian in the cheek. "Lillipup love! Don't let me catch you drooling, Lillipup!" I decided that was her official new nickname.

"Ow! It's not like that," she replied indignantly, rubbing her cheek vengefully. "He just…He didn't say goodbye to me and he's been ignoring me. I'm tired of it. I was going to go to your house, but I decided against it. So…just give Trevor my number."

"Give it to him yourself."

"He's ignoring me. And I have to go."

"That won't be a problem. I'll smuggle you into his room and you can scare the hell out of him. It'll make my day. And you can go whenever you want. The world's fate isn't pegged on you leaving right now."

"…That sounds fun."

Lillian joined the party.

"…Chelle? Can we wrap this up?" Jacoby called. I had forgotten that he had been waiting. How quiet my brother had become.

Lillian peered from around me to wave to him. Confused, he waved back.

I turned back to the original trail slowly, sharing a glance with him.

"…I still have your nose."

Then I darted off in the direction of our house.


	16. Wonder

_16. Wonder_

* * *

I burst through the front door of my house, fingers crossed to symbolize Jacoby's "nose." Lillian had no idea why we were running like crazy people or why our chase mattered so much, but she was peeved by our antics. Maybe that's why she had never really liked me. In my defense, she was being a party pooper. Truly, it was probably because she was gearing herself up to see Trevor for the last time, but now she was too sweaty and embarrassed to show her face.

Jacoby retrieved his nose by tackling me to the floor. Lillian remained on the front porch, wiping away the sweat and catching her breath. Mom didn't yell at us for once. I think it was because she was surprised to see me in such a joking mood that she decided it would be better to leave it alone.

I rose quickly, kicking and lifting one leg so high into the air that it could have stretched to the ceiling. "Where's Trevor?"

"In his room." Mom probed me suspiciously, holding on to me so I wouldn't lose my balance from my random defensive stance. "Chelle, don't do anything to your brother."

"Oh, _I'm_ not going to do anything." She remained unnerved by my smirk but didn't question it, even when I fled to the front porch.

"Okay, Lillipup—"

"Oh geez, don't hold that against me," she interrupted, turning pink. The familiar blush her sister was famous for diffused first through her cheeks and then ignited her entire complexion. "Please just call me by my normal name."

Ignoring her, I continued, "I'm going to sneak you in through Trevor's window. I'll unlock it for you and distract him so that it'll be even better. Cool? Cool." I ran back inside without waiting for a response.

"TREVOR!"

With my screaming, I knew Trevor was probably running to lock his door. Thankfully, I was faster and beat him to it even with my injured leg, bursting through it and nearly knocking him backward.

I grinned down at him. "Hi."

He focused on his pidgey, who was perched on his bookshelf in the back corner of the room, pecking at some seeds. "Get out of my room."

"I'd be happy to oblige if you were to escort me!"

I grabbed him by the shirt and tugged him out of the room. He fought back valiantly, but didn't achieve his goal of becoming free. The pidgey flapped in protest, feebly ordering me to stop.

"Let go of me! Go away!" He finally managed to shove me off, glowering immensely. His pidgey relaxed but still looked ready to sling mud, judging from the stretched wings and upright tail. "_What_? What do you want?"

"OH LOOK! WHAT A BEAUTIFUL WINDOW!"

I ran into his room quickly and unlocked the window. When I turned back to face him, he was staring at me quizzically. Before he could question me, I tackled him, pinching his cheeks and forcing an elongated smile.

"ROCHELLE!" He shoved me and tried to approach the window, but I pushed him back.

"Why are you avoiding Lil?"

He moved his feet uncomfortably. "Is that seriously why you're in here?" His blond hair fell into eyes. It had gotten lengthier, breaching his vision and allowing him to circumvent my taunting gaze. Hiding behind his hair had to be one of his hobbies. He would probably start making curtains out of it soon. "It's none of your business."

"You like her, don'tcha?" I waggled my eyebrows at him. He took the bait but acted as if I had force-fed it to him.

"Shut up! GET OUT!" I had never heard him scream like that before. His earlier exclamation was a puny twin, talentless in comparison to the volume his mouth suddenly blasted.

My eyes widened a little. "Whoa there. Wearing a pair of pants for once? Better get a belt if you want something to fit that loose-and-girly caboose of yours."

"I hate you," he said darkly.

His hands curled into white-knuckled fists. For a second, I thought he was going to punch me. Not that I'd let him. I was about to give him a wet-willy to remind him of who was large and in charge, but I knew provoking the pansy for much longer would transpire terrible consequences from Mom and Dad. So I did the noble thing and saved it for a later date.

"Hey-there-Mister-Pansy-Pants! It's nice that you want to express yourself because, y'know, feelings are important and all that schmaltzy-slushy-shit, but I know a girl who's about to leave and wanted to say goodbye but probably _isn't_ going to say goodbye because you're being such a tool and ignoring her like a butt-faced loser and not giving her any choice but to leave without any goodbyes and that is just sad-and-bad-and-stupid…like your face. So quit it."

I'm not always easy to understand when I ramble. Just now, my words had been running a marathon. However, Trevor had declared the winner before they made it to the finish line, somehow knowing _exactly_ what I was talking about. That weirded me out. Jacoby could usually understand me better because I hung out with and talked to him more, but never Trevor. Trevor was either getting really good at translating, or he knew me much better than I thought he did.

"_That's_ why you brought up Lillian? She's not here, is she?" There was that discomfort yet again. He was squirmier than a caterpie but somehow tense, with the stiffness of a metapod. "I don't want to see her. She has to go if she's here. I'm—I can't see her."

"Why? Because your room is the anti-spoinksty?" I asked, looking around at his clean domain.

It wouldn't have surprised me if germs ceased to exist in the room—or if they were at least pardoned from Trevor's side. Trevor and Jacoby had shared a room their entire lives, and Jacoby and I were alike in the fact we didn't exactly take care of our belongings. He did a better job of it than I did since I could at least identify his possessions, but it was obvious he had no sense of organization. Dirty laundry was strewn across his lopsided bookshelf, which was filled with crumpled papers and stacks of uncoordinated documents and magazines. Trevor's bookshelf was neatly organized, jammed top to bottom with alphabetized books. With the room painted a neutral green, there wasn't anything particularly edgy about the place since the color didn't clash with Jacoby's red bed and Trevor's blue one.

Trevor dropped his voice to a whisper. "She told me she liked me."

"And then you proposed but you're having second thoughts?"

"No!"

"So then who cares? What's the problem?"

"We were just friends and then she did that! And she…she also…" He placed his face in his hands. "She _kissed_ me." It was harder to hear him between his hands, but I picked it up instantly.

"Wait, there was _smooching_?! You smooched? Like, lip-on-lip action?" Unbelievable. Younger-brother-Trevor got his first kiss before I got mine. There had to be some law prohibiting this sort of thing, like the Ten-year-olds Shouldn't Be Kissing Law. What was happening to the world?

"Lower your voice!" he hissed, dropping his hands. His anger wasn't thick enough to disguise his humiliation—that, and he was so red that if I slashed his face it would be considered a bloodbath. I mentally classified this situation as redmail instead of blackmail—a type of blackmail that contained only the most wretched, embarrassing pieces of information about an individual. Definitely useful.

"There wasn't tongue, was there? _Ew. _If there was tongue, we'll have to quarantine your head—"

"No! Chelle, why do you try to make things so awkward? It wasn't like that! It was really quick, and there wasn't…anything like that." He flushed and returned to his bed, planting his face into his pillow. His pidgey hopped down from her spot to peck him supportively on the ear. He reached one hand upward to pet her. She clucked with satisfaction.

I was not the person to talk to about relationships, romance, or feelings in general. But, seeing that Lillian was my ally and the only friend (as far as I could see) Trevor had, I could at least try to boost the situation…especially if there was a chance that either of them would be indebted to me after this was over.

"Does she know you don't like her?"

His face remained in his pillow, utterly silent.

"That's why you've been avoiding her?" I smacked the side of his head with Jacoby's pillow. "Wow, that's lower than your self-esteem. Go kiss her feet and feed her grapes or something. Yeah, that sounds nutritious. Go grape her."

He unveiled himself with a defiant and somewhat disgusted stare. "…Do you ever stop being stupid?"

The fact he was mouthing back was starting to piss me off. With Jacoby, it was expected and socially acceptable. My older brother made it fun. With Trevor, it was just annoying. I was tired of his pre-teen, hormonal, kicked-houndour attitude.

I opened the window as high as it would go and yelled, "He's ready! For your lips! Don't forget the tongue!"

Before Trevor could sputter or question this action, I raced out of the room, slamming it shut behind me. I couldn't contain my evil laughter, but soon, after the first spurt of sinister joy, I stopped.

Jacoby smirked at me from the end of the hallway. It wasn't like him to be giddy over nothing...

"Mom and Dad want to see you."

Oh. So that was it. Jacoby had taken advantage of my side-adventure by talking to Mom and Dad personally. Judging from his smirk, he considered this action to be a personal victory. I decided to express my knack of good sportsmanship by ramming him in the shin while walking by. His noise of pain brought a satisfied smile to my face.

I went into the living room, where Dad was chewing on a sandwich, leaning back in a recliner chair. Mom paced through the kitchen while making her own meal but looked up at me when I entered, looking like a deerling that had been caught in the headlights. She tapped her fingers on the counter in an effort to subdue her abrupt tension. This was never a good thing. Was she mad at me?

"Would you like a sandwich?"

"With crunchy peanut butter and chips all in one? Abso-freaking-lutely." If this was a peace offering before the war began, I accepted.

"Then you can make one yourself. You're a big girl." The crack in her voice betrayed her bitterness, and she ducked her head as she exited the kitchen. Was she really going to start crying?

I walked past her wordlessly, grumbling about having to make my own sandwich. I put myself to work, carefully smearing the peanut butter over the bread. I tried to make my movements look natural as I fetched some potato chips, camouflaging the limp with some general stiffness.

I shuffled into the living room with my finished plate, digging in immediately. Mom's gaze was flittering all around the room, from Dad's stony expression to Jacoby's frown to the couch I was sitting on—never exactly on me. Honestly, I was too hungry to care.

"…Jacoby tells us you want to leave."

I was hoping I would get the chance to tell them myself, but Jacoby beat me to the punch. I'd have to beat and punch him later to make up for it.

"Sophie's in trouble," I confessed, with the fuming realization that I couldn't get out of this without telling them the truth. I told them briefly about Bilbo and what he was tasked with doing. I figured if they saw the situation as urgently as I did they would allow me to go.

"It's a little scary," Mom said, wiping her eyes. Whenever one of us talked about leaving, she would get immediately emotional, attached, or depressed. "If she's in danger, will you be walking into the same type of danger? I don't want you to get in trouble, Rochelle. We're worried about you enough. I can't forget what happened to Sophie's mother and wonder if this is somehow related. There is _no way_ you are going to get involved with something as dangerous as that."

"I agree with Jacoby. You're going to need a pokémon. It won't be able to have a pokéball, but you'll need a pokémon," Dad interceded.

Mom glimpsed at him crossly. The static from the movement could have caused a power outage. I clicked the television to make sure it was still operational.

"We just began discussing this! I don't want her near any kind of danger—especially with her curse. Things have been getting scarier lately, and who knows what's out there now? What about what happened with Annie?"

"It's always been dangerous, Leandra," Dad objected, placing his plate on the table in the center of the living room. "When we were traveling, don't you remember Team Rocket? I'll never forget when I had my growlithe stolen from me. But the criminals were caught, and Po was returned."

I frowned as he mentioned Po. It was odd to think that my parents used to be pokémon trainers. What made it seem so unreal was the fact I had never even seen their pokémon. Mom had mentioned once, in passing, that they had given their pokémon away to trainers, breeders, or caretakers who were going to give them a better life than what they had planned together, but that didn't make sense to me. They must have spent a good chunk of their lives with their pokémon. Why would they want to give them away, especially since they had created such great bonds with them?

Jacoby must have felt the same because he also frowned. Neither of us interjected, however, since we were well-trained spectators who knew that interfering with one of our parents' arguments was a death wish.

Mom mindlessly scooted to the edge of her seat, ready to spring to her feet to defend her position. "It doesn't matter. Crime is worse than it was."

"It's the _same_. The media just makes it seem like it's worse. Team Rocket has been shut down for years. Because of the Tamers organization, they're going to stay shut down."

"That doesn't mean anything! When was the last time we heard something about the Tamers? They haven't been active! Hell, even the police aren't that active nowadays!"

Dad held up the most recent newspaper, jabbing his thumb at a specific article. "This is why I read. I _know_ these things, Leandra. Just recently it was announced that the Tamers have been made an official branch of the police force. There's also a rumor that they will be extending outside of Johto. Both are active. Security has increased in the routes."

I could feel the heat Mom was giving off. It was nice to see someone else argue with Mom for a change. But Dad didn't even bother to celebrate his eventual victory. He focused on Jacoby, who shifted in his seat.

"Tamers organization?" Jacoby questioned, scratching his hairy chin. "I didn't hear about them once, and I've been through Johto. Are you sure, Dad?"

"Positive. They're a faction of law enforcement that apprehends criminals and keeps trainers within a safe environment," Dad explained, once more holding the newspaper up like it was his trophy. "When I was your age, I tried applying, but it's tough to get into. I heard they might have lowered the age for applicants, though. The reason you didn't hear about them is because they're behind the scenes nowadays, but they do participate in dealing with crime."

He faced my mother, who was gnawing on her lip angrily. "You see? There's good amongst the bad. Trevor and Rochelle will also have Jacoby. I'm not worried about them if he'll be there."

Jacoby jumped a little at the mention, swiveling his head at Dad with such ferocity I'm surprised it didn't fly off. "Wait…what? I didn't agree to that!"

"The biggest thing about having younger siblings is taking care of them. We've taken care of you. Now we expect you to do the same for your brother and sister," Dad said in finality. "You heard your mom. It's true that there's more security, but they're going to need you. It has been crazier lately."

"I have other plans. You know that! I was going to work on the gym circuit in Kanto. That's not fair if I have to travel through Johto all over again!" he protested.

My cheeks rose so high it felt like my dimples had caved in. I didn't want him to come either, but for now I would enjoy his momentary downfall. It was turning out to be a good day after all.

"The Magnet Train hasn't reopened yet," Mom pointed out. It seemed like Dad had won the argument from Mom's sudden eagerness to focus on Jacoby. It was a ceasefire, at least. "To have your pokémon fly to unfamiliar territory is more than dangerous. It's illegal without an extended license." I didn't feel the need to point out hundreds of trainers did it anyway.

"I can get one. We'll use maps. Preen is smart." Preen, who had been preening herself next to the hallway, looked at us from the corner of her eye, but continued working, pulling out some of her feathers in the process.

"We can discuss this later," Mom snapped, directing an angry eye toward the feathery pile. "But I probably won't budge. I need you all to be safe right now. Rochelle…" She faced me reluctantly. "…I don't want you to go…but if you feel you have to and you _really_ want to, you need to visit Sprout Tower and talk this over with Elder Li. We wanted you to train in order to get rid of this curse, but if you really want to do this, you're going to need some support and advice from the monks."

At this point, I didn't care about socializing with the monks. I had wanted to train earlier to move on, but if all I had to do was talk to them, I could do that. I would do anything to leave this place as soon as possible. Although, if there was a chance that the monks _wouldn't_ let me leave…then that would be a major problem—a problem I wouldn't tolerate.

"As for what pokémon you'll be using—"

"I have one in mind. I just have to find him." I explained about my encounter with Chimley and how he probably wanted to save his mother now. If I gave him my word that I'd find his mother, I would probably have him as my ally. I just needed to find him now. And if I found Poona along the way…that would be perfect.

I didn't confess that I was still searching for Poona because I was afraid that my parents wouldn't be persuaded. They were already convinced that Poona was long-gone, so if I hinted that I had moved on (buactuallyttotallydidn't), then they would probably see I was ready to leave the city.

"It sounds like a plan," Dad said with a smile. It looked sad somehow—almost incomplete. I wondered if he noticed I hadn't mentioned Poona. "How about you go to Sprout Tower now? Elder Li is probably available at this hour."

I rose so quickly that I almost dropped my plate. Almost instinctively, I held it to the floor. Everyone was silent as I winced, definitely wanting to drop it now. I used to offer Poona my crumbs before I deposited my dish in the sink. I hadn't done the gesture in so long that I was surprised that my body even responded that way.

Jacoby snatched my plate hastily, cleaning it off in the sink. I stared at my hand, somewhat grateful.

"Nasty, Chelle. You couldn't have chewed better? Pretty crumb-y of you."

That was worthy of a face-palm—if only to hide my relieved smile. "Says the person who loses so much food when he chews that he feeds the floor."

"Hey! Floors gotta eat, too!"

Thankful for our banter, Mom smiled and held up a hand to me, which usually meant stop-and-don't-say-a-word-because-what-I'm-about-t o-tell-you-is-very-important.

"One more thing, Rochelle. Jacoby told us some information about Corwin and how you harassed him."

The gratefulness I felt for Jacoby's distraction was masked by a sudden urge for vengeance. If my eyes had lasers, I'm pretty sure Jacoby's head would be severed. He knew this because he muttered a goodbye and disappeared out the front door.

"I didn't _harass_ him. He just happened to be there when I was trying to hug a wall. Violently. I was violently hugging a wall—"

"You are going to invite him to dinner and apologize," Mom interrupted curtly. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you to _not_ harass anyone. I can make only so many apology meals. Does he like spaghetti? Ask him what he wants when you see him."

"That's great, Mom, but I choose not to chase after creepy know-it-alls—"

"You won't have to chase him. Isn't he at Sprout Tower? Jacoby said he would be." Did stores still sell pikes? I would have to check. "He also said something about your leg. You didn't hurt yourself, did you?" Mom studied the appearance of my injured leg. "What happened this time, Rochelle?"

I wobbled stiffly to the door. "Mom, I'll explain later. I really gotta go. Something tells me that the monks go to bed early because they're all old and crumbly."

"You will be just as old as them someday, so respect your elders!" Mom chided, as I finally leapt through the front door.

Jacoby had been preparing himself for my apocalyptic wrath, obviously, because he was propped on one knee when I got outside, gesturing to Preen, whose wings were spread, ready to fly. This was an apology that I could actually accept.

But it wouldn't excuse him.

I stared at him wonderingly as he exclaimed, waving his arms like a showgirl, "Ta-dah!"

In all honesty…I was confused. I understood that he was trying to make it up to me…but what was he trying to accomplish with this? With…everything? He arrived here for my birthday, but he had stayed for months on end. (Now that I thought about it, he never even got me a birthday present…) Since he's been here, besides the times we had bickered and wrestled and spit on each other, he was very nice…Too nice. He had comforted me when I did and didn't need it; he had gotten me a poliwag, which I had rejected; he had distracted me whenever I desperately needed a distraction. He had done so much for me…which made me wonder…

Were Mom and Dad _really_ holding him back, or was he choosing to stay here? For me? For Trevor? For…himself?

"Why?"

"Huh?" Jacoby blinked at me stupidly, wearing Mom's deerling-in-the-headlights expression. "Why what?"

"Why are you being so nice? You don't have to be…especially when I shaved part of your eyebrow last night."

"You did WHAT?" He ran his hands over his face, stroking his eyebrows worriedly.

"At least, not yet, so you should definitely sleep with your eyes open." I crossed my arms, watching him as he finally managed to stand on his feet. "…You could have left a long time ago."

Jacoby scowled. He actually _scowled_. I'd seen him do one before but not with this much intensity. "Chelle, why are we having this conversation now? Don't you want to go? You never get psychoanalytical on me."

"_I_ want to go, but you don't. Why?" I took a step forward. "Did the Magnet Train shake you up that badly?"

Preen peered over at me almost out of warning. Jacoby had fallen silent, but the fact his gaze was still intact with mine told me he wasn't as unconfident as I thought he was.

He glanced at Preen. She eagerly flapped her wings and squawked. "Are you doing this because you're mad at me?"

"Nope."

There was something he wasn't telling me. Whether it was the fact he got traumatized from the terrorist attack months back or there were some insecurities he was sheltering, something wasn't right with Jacoby. Since Poona disappeared and he quarreled with Chewy, Jacoby had stayed here—not for me, not for Trevor, but for himself. He was hesitating. He talked with his pokémon and trained with them, but it was almost as if…he didn't want to train anymore.

I watched him for a few more seconds before I marched up to Preen and placed myself on her back.

"If you're not going to tell me what's eating you…" I dug my heels into Preen's feathers. She seemed to understand what I was trying to say and launched herself into the air, soaring high into the sky. The burst of air peeled my skin backward, but I still managed to turn around and yell, "Then you can eat my dust!"

The speck formerly known as Jacoby was shouting and running after us, but Preen was faster. It wouldn't take long for us to get to Sprout Tower, but it would probably take Jacoby at least ten minutes.

I gripped her feathers, enjoying the feeling of flight—of the weightless suspense. I wanted to raise my arms, but I was afraid of flying backward.

"So what's up with him? He isn't calling it quits on training, is he?" I had to yell to even hear myself.

"_No." _Her flaps became harder, sounding as if they were gouging the air. I leaned forward so I could hear her. _"He challenged the Elite Four and lost."_

"Huh." Jacoby had claimed he was going to go through Kanto before challenging the Elite Four, but somehow it didn't astound me that he had lied. He was the sort of guy to not take defeat so easily.

"_He didn't want to tell you or your family because he was so ashamed of his loss. Goober attacked him in the middle of the battle. He had to be tranquilized, and Jacoby needed stitching repair. He realized the team wasn't ready and planned to train in Kanto. When the explosion occurred, he used it as an excuse to go back home." _Preen slowed, dipping her wings slightly in the breeze and coasting. _"Goober will never change. Neither will Jacoby. All men are like that. Prideful. Stupid. We've told him to release Goober, but he won't listen to us—not even after being wounded."_

Now I could definitely understand Chewy's perspective—how the raticate was so fixed on releasing Goober and feeling so betrayed at Jacoby's refusal. I wanted the primeape to go as well. The few times Jacoby let Goober out he immediately tried attacking Jacoby. When that didn't work, he tried harming me, Trevor, or anyone else whom he considered to be close to Jacoby. Jacoby would recall him when the threats began, but it never exactly solved the problem. Why wasn't he letting go of Goober permanently?

"_Jacoby believes that he can change Goober and that time will aid him. It will not. Stupid boy."_

"Does Jacoby feel close to Goober?"

"_Of course not! You know what a pokéball signifies, don't you? The meaning is taken for granted nowadays, but some know it."_

I remembered the history Keane had shared with me and my family—how the pokéball had been invented to represent the bond between pokémon and humans.

"A bond."

"_Yes, a bond. When you sever that symbolic bond, the spirit suffers—but only subconsciously."_

I frowned. "You get hurt when you release pokémon?" That was never in the job description. How did my parents feel when they released their pokémon then?

Preen looked back at me seriously as she began to descend. _"There is grief with any goodbye."_

Her words dawned on me. I had experienced it with Henrietta, Sophie, and Poona. No wonder Jacoby was trying to avoid that as much as possible. But if he didn't even _like_ Goober, then why was he still willing to hold onto him? It wouldn't be as painful to say goodbye with the violent primeape, right?

Preen touched the ground, wriggling herself so that I could slide off. I landed gracefully upon my butt, standing up with a declaration of, "I meant to do that," before running toward the entrance of Sprout Tower.

"_Where are your manners?!" _she screeched. There was the PMS we all know and love.

"I was born without them! Ask Jacoby!" I called jokingly. She huffed, offended. I hoped she knew that that was my version of gratitude.

I dashed through the entrance, cupping my hands around my mouth to yell, "ELDER LI! GETDOWNHERENOW!" I was hoping the Hairless Wonder had heard me as soon as I bolted inside. However, I was met with confused stares from unfamiliar monks instead.

"Hello, Ms. Worley," one of them greeted with a bow. "You would like to see Elder Li?"

"Yup."

"He's currently upstairs, speaking with a visitor that we have. You may go upstairs and join them, if you'd like."

I muttered my thanks, sprinting up the stairs. There were a few times that I was forced to slow down so that I wouldn't trample over some bellsprout and docile monks, but I managed to get to the top in a timely manner.

When I reached the third and final floor, I saw none other than Elder Li, Keane, and Bilbo, with his medicham, situated by the window of death.

"NO! HE'S TOO SHORT TO DIE!"

I ran forward, seizing Bilbo by an arm and wrenching him from the circle they had formed. I had just saved a life. This guy officially owed me.

"You have something against my height, don't you?" Bilbo mumbled in response, ripping his arm out of my grip. He turned dutifully back to the xatu. "Your proposal is tempting, but my mind is unhinged by the possibility. I'm unfit to be another's companion—specifically for whom you're assigning."

I opened my mouth to clarify just what in the hell they were talking about when Elder Li stole my attention by bowing.

"Hello, Rochelle. When will you be leaving?"

"He—_what_."

Elder Li smiled warmly. "Isn't that why you came? To warn us of your departure?"

I stared, wondering if monks truly did have psychic abilities.

"I'm not psychic, if that's what you're thinking, but I am lucky to be associated with one." Keane chuckled from beside him. They had played a dirty trick. Admittedly, I was impressed, but whatever. "Corwin told us his tale. When he informed us of his interactions with your friends, I knew that you would desire to leave. I truly believe it is the best option for you at the moment."

I stared skeptically. "…Oh really."

"Indeed. Training in a single location afflicts you with the unawareness of the outside. If you are to contribute to the solution of the conflict that we discussed, it would help for you to be mobile. Don't you find that agreeable?"

"…Yeah…" There had to be a catch here…

I could sense that Keane was directing his thoughts only to me now. _"The revolutions are occurring out there. There's animosity, as there always has been, but the bulk of it lies outside this city. Your experiences can contribute even more to your training. As long as you continue to treat pokémon as equals and work to tame your curse, there is nothing unsuitable about traveling. There are two conditions, however, that we ask you to follow." _I knew there was a catch.

Corwin stared at me intensely, as if he could dissect me from one glance alone—as if he was trying to trespass upon the telepathic conversation. Maybe his medicham wasn't transferring every detail to him after all.

"Yeah?"

"You must always be accompanied by Keane and you must not be alone," Elder Li finished.

I glanced at the xatu when he was mentioned. "…Even when I pee?"

Corwin's medicham face-palmed. It was such a human gesture that it actually made me smile.

"No, not that literally. We concur that this is something you have to do. It is your decision when you shall leave and what you should do." Elder Li nodded firmly. "Your true challenges won't be found in a city you've been in your entire life."

I was surprised, to say the least. I thought they would talk me out of it and chain me to the city. If having Keane around the entire time was the only condition, then…fine. I didn't care. He could help in some ways, with the mind-reading mostly.

It's not as if I wanted to be alone anyway, especially since I knew how that felt. If my parents got their way, Jacoby and Trevor would be traveling with me as well. That wouldn't be much of a challenge, but I could already sense the many arguments we would have between each other over seemingly pointless things.

"How soon can we leave?"

"Whenever you're ready."

I translated that to "now" and started to run toward the stairs, but some kind of force immobilized me, fastening me to a single position and yanking me backward. When the force lifted, I fell to the ground and threw one annoyed look upward. Bow-wow stared me down, with her half-smiling trainer next to her. She had used a psychic on me. For whatever reason, she didn't want me to leave.

"What? Were you too fat to chase me down?"

Virchow stared back just as unappreciatively. _"I've never encountered a girl as discourteous as you."_

"Yeah, well, I've never encountered a pokémon as fat as you, so—"

"This tower has seen many battles, but I don't think it's prepared for a skirmish between two females," Elder Li commented dismissively. "I believe there was something Corwin wanted to discuss with you before you departed, Rochelle." He glanced expectantly at the aforementioned trainer, who was adjusting his tie and mumbling under his breath.

I didn't want this right now. Whatever he wanted to say, I doubted it was important enough for me to stay here any longer. I needed to go back home and start packing. I needed to go back out into the routes and search for Poona one final time. He was wasting my time.

_Whatever you're going to say, nerd-turd, hurry up because I'm not interested._

Corwin's eyes enveloped something like awe, lightening his already light brown eyes. The half-smile was like a permanent feature of his face. While it could have been unsettling, I found it strangely calming, just because there was something behind it that I couldn't define. A type of tiredness, branded with unmistakable insight...

Something told me he had experienced far more than I had ever known in my quiet little town, which made me instantly dislike where this was going.

"It is not my place or duty to pry," he began, pinching his hand-cuffs inattentively, "but my curiosity has always been too savage to decline. How long have you been a pokémon?"


End file.
